Hen 


Tamawaca  Folks 


A 
Summer  Comedy 


By  JOHN   ESTES  COOKE 

^c  (D-MI^^^I^^  4"' 


Publishers 

THE    TAMAWACA    PRESS 
U.  S.  A. 


Copyrighted  1907  by 
G.  J.  WILSON 


List  of  Chapters 


PAGE 

I  The  Lawyer.       ...  9 

II     Jim 18 

III  Wilder        ....  31 

IV  Just  Girls  ....  53 

V  Getting  Acquainted     .          .  66 

VI  Found  Out        ...  80 

VII  The  Meeting      ...  96 

VIII  Something  Doing        .         .  114 

IX  Developing  the  Negative     .  122 

X  Jim  Gets  a  Raise         .         .  135 

XI  Rough-housing  .          .          .  152 

XII  Mrs.  Herringford's  Party    .  161 

XIII  Reconciliation    .          .  172 

XIV  Of  Course  184 


Tamawaca  Folks 


EXPLANATIVE. 

The  author  begs  to  state  that  what- 
ever is  contained  in  this  modest  vol- 
ume has  been  written  in  a  spirit  of  the 
broadest  goodfellowship,  and  with 
malice  toward  none.  He  has  met  odd 
and  entertaining  people  in  all  quar- 
ters of  the  world  and  has  brought 
them  together  in  "Tamawaca  Folks" 
merely  that  he  might  weave  them  into 
his  little  romance,  and  with  no 
thought  of  being  in  any  way  personal. 
Therefore,  since  these  are  many  and 
variant  types  and  can  have  no  indi- 
viduality for  that  reason,  the  writer 
begs  his  reader  not  to  attempt  to  fit 
any  of  the  fictitious  characters  to  liv- 
ing persons,  lest  your  neighbor  try  to 
fit  one  of  my  masquerade  costumes  to 
you — which  would  be  an  impertinence 
I  am  sure  you  would  not  like.  The 
temptation,  I  admit,  is  natural,  be- 
cause the  people  portrayed  are  all  hu- 
man and  even  their  composites  have 


prototypes  in  nearly  every  locality. 
But  desist,  I  entreat  you. 

Tamawaca  exists,  and  is  as  beauti- 
ful as  I  have  described  it.  I  chose  it 
as  the  scene  of  my  story  because  I 
once  passed  an  entire  summer  there 
and  was  fascinated  by  its  incompa- 
rable charm.  The  middle  West  has  no 
spot  that  can  compete  with  it  in  love- 
liness. 


TAMAWACA  FOLKS 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE  LAWYER. 

When  Jarrod  finally  sold  out  the 
Crosbys  he  had  a  chance  to  breathe 
freely  for  the  first  time  in  years.  The 
Crosbys  had  been  big  ranch  owners 
and  herders,  mine  owners,  timber  and 
mill  owners,  bankers,  brokers,  bucket- 
shop  manipulators  and  confirmed 
bull-dozers  and  confidence-men.  They 
played  the  game  for  big  stakes  always 
and  won  by  sheer  nerve  and  audacity. 

Jarrod  was  their  lawyer  and  they 
kept  him  in  hot  water  every  minute. 
They  had  a  habit  of  rounding  up 
other  folks'  cattle,  cutting  other  peo- 
ple's timber,  jumping  claims,  tap- 
ping mines  and  misbehaving  gener- 
ally. And  Jarrod  had  to  straighten 
out  these  misdeeds  and  find  a  way  to 
keep  his  clients  from  behind  the  bars. 


io  ^famawaca  Folks 

Old  man  Crosby,  who  had  been 
shot  in  the  hip  in  a  raid,  ran  the  Bank 
of  Oklahoma,  and  ran  it  so  crookedly 
that  Jarrod  was  often  in  despair.  No 
one  would  believe  a  Crosby  under 
oath,  while  Jarrod  was  acknowl- 
edged by  even  his  enemies  to  be 
square  as  a  die  and  fair  as  the  scales 
of  justice.  So  his  position  was  ex- 
tremely difficult.  He  saved  the  Cros- 
bys from  their  misdeeds  for  years,  by 
dint  of  hard  work  and  constant  di- 
plomacy, and  at  last,  when  a  thous- 
and penalties  confronted  them  and 
could  not  be  staved  off  much  longer, 
the  lawyer  managed  to  sell  for  them 
their  entire  holdings  and  induced 
them  to  retire  from  business  in  gen- 
eral and  lawlessness  in  particular. 

When  it  was  all  over  Jarrod  went 
home  to  Kansas  City,  nodded  to  his 
wife,  looked  curiously  and  with  some 
interest  at  his  children,  and  then  sat 
down  in  an  easy  chair  and  sighed.  It 
was  all  new  and  strange  to  him — this 


Lawyer  11 

being  "at  home" — and  he  was  n't  sure 
at  first  whether  he  liked  it  or  not. 

Mrs.  Jarrod  liked  it,  though,  and 
made  much  of  him,  so  that  gradually 
his  uneasiness  wore  off  and  he  settled 
down  meekly  to  the  practice  of  law 
in  general.  Four  or  five  hours  a  day 
he  spent  in  his  office,  listening  to  the 
unimportant  grievances  of  common 
folks  and  striving  to  keep  his  nerves 
from  jumping. 

He  had  n't  thought  to  feather  his 
nest,  yet  the  Crosbys  had  good-na- 
turedly tossed  a  lump  of  money  at 
him  and  he  had  accepted  it.  But 
a  nervous  man  must  keep  busy, 
even  when  those  same  nerves  oper- 
ate to  keep  him  cold  and  quiet 
as  an  alternative  to  dancing  and 
yelling  like  a  madman.  So  Jar- 
rod  "held  on  to  himself"  and  tried 
to  enjoy  his  devoted  family  and  the 
petty  details  which  were  all  that  re- 
mained of  a  business  too  long  neg- 
lected to  serve  those  wild  Crosbys. 


12  Tamawaca  Folks 

The  reaction  had  set  in  following  his 
recent  months  of  hard  work,  and  be- 
fore many  days  he  felt  himself  both 
physically  and  mentally  exhausted 
and  knew  that  unless  he  deliberately 
created  a  diversion  his  run-down  con- 
stitution would  be  likely  to  involun- 
tarily create  one  that  he  would  n't 
like. 

As  fate  would  have  it,  on  a  balmy 
spring  day  he  met  an  old  friend — a 
Dr.  Brush — who  was  a  prominent  and 
highly  respected  clergyman.  Said  the 
doctor : 

"You  need  a  change,  Jarrod.  Why 
don't  you  go  to  some  quiet,  pleasant 
summer  resort,  and  loaf  until  fall'?" 

"Where  can  I  find  such  a  place?" 
asked  Jarrod. 

"Why,  any  of  the  Lake  Michigan 
resorts  are  desirable  —  Tamawaca, 
Bay  View,  Charlevoix  or  Petoskey. 
I've  been  to  Tamawaca  a  couple  of 
summers  myself,  and  like  it  immense- 
ly. It  is  n't  so  fashionable  as  Charle- 


T'he  Lawyer  13 

voix  and  Petoskey,  but  it  is  the  most 
beautiful  place  I  have  ever  seen,  bar 


none.': 


"What's  there?"  enquired  Jarrod, 
listlessly. 

"Lake  Michigan,  to  begin  with; 
and  Tamawaca  Pool,  which  is  really  a 
lovely  inland  lake.  You'll  find  there 
good  fishing  and  bathing,  a  noble 
forest  running  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  pretty  cottages  nestled  among 
the  trees,  lots  of  ozone,  and  quiet  till 
you  can't  rest." 

"Eh?" 

"I  mean  quiet  so  you  can  rest." 

"It  sounds  promising,"  said  Jar- 
rod.  "Guess  I'll  go.  My  wife  re- 
marked yesterday  we  ought  to  escape 
the  summer's  heat  on  the  children's 
account.  This  idea  will  please  her — 
and  it  pleases  me.  I  used  to  fish  when 
I  was  a  boy.  And  hunt.  How's  the 
hotel,  Brush?" 

"Bad  as  possible.  Take  a  cottage. 
That's  the  only  way  to  enjoy  life." 


14  ^famawaca  Folks 

"How  can  I  get  a  cottage?" 

"Oh,  ask  Wilder,  when  you  get  to 
Tamawaca.  There  are  always  cot- 
tages to  rent.  But  stay!  you  might 
take  Grant's  place.  He's  a  St.  Louis 
man,  and  I  understand  his  cottage  is 
for  rent.  I'll  write  and  ask  him,  if 
you  like." 

"Do,  old  fellow.  And  thank  you 
very  much." 

He  went  home  and  told  Mrs.  Jar- 
rod,  who  was  delighted  with  the  plan. 

"Where  did  you  say  it  was?"  she 
asked. 

"On  Lake  Michigan,  somewhere.  I 
forget  the  name  of  the  place." 

"How  do  you  get  there?" 

"I  did  n't  enquire." 

"And  whose  cottage  are  you  going 
to  rent?" 

"Why, — it  belongs  to  a  man  in  St. 
Louis.  Dr.  Brush  knows  him." 

Mrs.  Jarrod  asked  no  more  ques- 
tions, but  she  straightway  put  on  her 
bonnet  and  called  upon  Mrs.  Brush. 


Lawyer 


In  an  hour  she  knew  all  that  was  nec- 
essary about  Tamawaca. 

The  clergyman  got  a  reply,  in 
course  of  time,  from  Grant  of  St. 
Louis.  His  cottage  was  in  Wilder's 
hands  to  rent.  Jarrod  must  see  Wild- 
er about  it  as  soon  as  he  got  to  Tama- 
waca. It  was  all  furnished  and  ready 
to  move  into. 

"Who  is  Wilder?"  Jarrod  asked  his 
friend. 

"Wilder!  Oh,  I  forgot  you  don't 
know  Tamawaca,"  said  Dr.  Brush. 
"Therefore  you  don't  know  Wilder. 
Wilder  is  Tamawaca." 

"I  see,"  returned  Jarrod,  nodding. 

"Oh,  no  you  don't.  You  think  you 
see,  I've  no  doubt.  But  there  is  only 
one  Wilder  upon  earth,  and  perhaps 
that  is  fortunate.  You've  been  in 
with  those  pirate  Crosbys  for  years. 
Well,  Wilder  is  the  Crosby  —  in  other 
words  the  pirate  —  of  Tamawaca.  See 
now?" 

"He  runs  things,  eh?" 


16  ^famawaca  Folks 

"Yes ;  for  Wilder.  A  charming  fel- 
low, by  the  way.  Looks  like  a  cherub, 
and  acts  like " 

"You  interest  me,"  said  Jarrod, 
brightening.  "I'm  glad  I'm  going  to 
Tamawaca. 

A  few  days  later  the  Jarrods — bag 
and  baggage,  parents  and  children — 
travelled  up  to  Chicago  and  landed  in 
the  morning  at  the  Auditorium  An- 
nex. A  little  fat  man  stood  before 
the  counter  in  front  of  Jarrod  and 
winked  saucily  at  the  clerk.  His  face 
was  moon-shaped  and  rosy,  guiltless 
of  whisker,  and  bore  an  expression  at 
once  gentle  and  whimsical. 

"Gimme  the  best  room  you  have," 
he  called  out,  while  scribbling  his 
name  on  the  register. 

"Ah,  a  twenty-dollar  suite?"  asked 
the  clerk,  cheerfully. 

"Hear  me  out!"  retorted  the  little 
man.  "Gimme  the  best  room  you 
have  for  four  dollars  a  day." 

"Oh,"  said  the  clerk,  his  jaw  drop- 


Lawyer  17 

ping.  "Here,  front!  show  the  gentle- 
man up  to  1906.  Any  baggage,  sir?" 

"Just  my  wife,"  sighed  the  little 
man,  with  another  wink,  and  a  stout 
lady  of  ample  proportions  grabbed 
his  arm  and  whisked  him  away.  She 
did  n't  seem  at  all  offended,  but 
laughed  pleasantly  and  said:  "Now, 
George,  behave  yourself!" 

Jarrod  looked  at  the  register.  The 
little  fat  man  had  written:  "Geo.  B. 
Still,  Quincy,  111." 

The  Jarrods  shopped  during  the 
day,  and  bought  themselves  and  the 
children  cool  things  for  summer.  In 
the  evening  they  went  down  to  the 
river  and  boarded  the  big  steel  steam- 
er that  was  to  carry  them  to  their  des- 
tination. 


CHAPTER  II. 

JIM. 

A  whistle  blew;  the  little  tug 
strained  at  its  cable,  and  snorting  and 
puffing  in  the  supreme  struggle  it 
drew  the  great  steamer  "Plymouth" 
away  from  its  dock  to  begin  its  jour- 
ney down  the  river  to  the  open  lake 
and  thence,  discarding  its  tug,  across 
mighty  Michigan  to  Iroquois  Bay, 
Tamawaca,  and  the  quaint  city  of 
Kochton. 

The  passengers  thronged  both  the 
ample  decks  to  catch  the  cooling 
breeze  that  came  as  soon  as  they  were 
in  motion,  for  the  day  had  been  es- 
pecially warm  for  June.  The  older 
folks  drew  long  lines  of  chairs  to  the 
rails,  while  the  young  people  walked 
up  and  down,  chattering  and  gay.  To 
nearly  all  the  voyage  meant  the  be- 
ginning of  a  holiday,  and  hearts  were 
18 


Jim  19 

light  and  faces  eager  and  expectant. 

Jarrod  had  no  sooner  located  his 
family  in  a  comfortable  corner  than 
he  was  attracted  by  a  young  man  who 
sauntered  by. 

"Why,  Jim,  is  it  you?'  he  ex- 
claimed, jumping  up  to  hold  out  a 
hand  in  greeting. 

The  other  paused,  as  if  astonished, 
but  then  said  in  a  cordial  tone : 

"You  here,  Mr.  Jarrod?" 

He  was  a  tall,  athletic  looking  fel- 
low, with  a  fine  face,  a  straightfor- 
ward look  in  his  eyes  and  a  clean-cut 
air  about  him  that  was  pleasant  to 
behold.  Jarrod  had  recognized  him 
as  the  only  son  of  a  man  he  had  known 
in  St.  Louis — a  man  very  prominent 
and  wealthy,  he  remembered. 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  Jim?" 
he  enquired. 

"Why,  I  live  in  Chicago  now,  you 
know,"  was  the  reply. 

"You  do?" 

"Did  n't   you   know,    sir?    I   left 


2O  ^famawaca  Folks 

home  over  a  year  ago.  I'm  hoeing  my 
own  row  now,  Mr.  Jarrod." 

"What's  wrong,  Jim?' 

"Father  and  I  could  n't  agree.  He 
wanted  me  to  take  to  the  patent  medi- 
cine business,  because  he  has  made  a 
fortune  in  it." 

"Very  natural,"  nodding. 

"The  poor  father  suffers  a  good 
deal  from  rheumatism,  you  know;  so 
as  soon  as  I  left  college  he  proposed 
to  turn  over  to  me  the  manufacture 
and  sale  of  his  great  rheumatism 
cure." 

"Ah." 

"And  I  balked,  Mr.  Jarrod.  I  said 
the  proprietor  of  a  rheumatism  cure 
had  no  business  to  suffer  from  rheum- 
atism, or  else  no  business  to  sell  the 
swindling  remedy." 

"To  be  sure.  I  know  your  father, 
Jim,  so  I  can  imagine  what  happened, 
directly  you  made  that  statement. 
Did  he  give  you  anything  when  you 
— er — parted?" 


Jim  21 

"Not  a  sou.  I'm  earning  my  own 
living." 

"Good.    But  how?' 

"They  don't  take  a  boy  just  out  of 
college  for  the  president  of  a  bank  or 
the  director  of  a  railway.  I'm  just  a 
clerk  in  Marshall  Field's." 

Jarrod  looked  him  over,  critically. 
The  cheap  new  summer  suit — perhaps 
it  had  cost  fifteen  dollars — could  not 
disguise  his  manly  bearing.  On  an- 
other man  it  might  have  proclaimed 
its  cheapness;  on  Jim  no  one  noticed 
its  texture. 

"How  much  do  you  earn?"  asked 
the  lawyer,  quietly. 

"Twelve  dollars  a  week.  But  it's 
an  interesting  experience,  Mr.  Jarrod. 
You've  no  idea  how  well  a  fellow  can 
live  on  twelve  dollars  a  week — unless 
you've  tried  it." 

Jarrod  smiled. 

"Where  are  you  bound  for?"  he 
asked. 

"A  little  place  called  Tamawaca, 


22  tfaffiawaca  Folks 

there  to  spend  my  two  weeks'  vaca- 
tion. Just  think  of  it!  After  four- 
teen months  I've  saved  enough  for  an 
outing.  It  is  n't  a  princely  sum,  to 
be  sure — nothing  like  what  I  spent  in 
a  day  at  college — but  by  economy  I 
can  make  it  do  me  in  that  out-of-the- 
way  place,  where  the  hotel  board  is 
unusually  cheap." 

"I'm  told  it  is  as  bad  as  it  is  cheap," 
said  Jarrod. 

"That  stands  to  reason,  sir.  I'm 
not  expecting  much  but  rest  and  sun- 
shine and  fresh  air — and  perhaps  a 
nice  girl  to  dance  with  in  the  even- 
ing." 

"I  see." 

"And,  by  the  way,  Mr.  Jarrod," 
this  with  some  hesitation,  "please 
don't  tell  anyone  who  I  am,  if  you're 
asked.  I  call  myself  James  Ingram — 
Ingram  was  my  mother's  name,  you 
know — and  I'd  rather  people  would 
n't  know  who  my  father  is,  or  why 
I'm  living  in  this  modest  way.  They 


Jim  23 

would  either  blame  me  or  pity  me, 
and  I  won't  endure  either  from  stran- 
gers, for  it's  none  of  their  business." 

"I'll  remember,  Jim.  Will  you  let 
me  present  you  to  Mrs.  Jarrod?" 

"Not  tonight,  please.  This  meet- 
ing has  a  little  upset  me.  Wait  till  I 
get  settled  a  bit.  You're  going  to 
Tamawaca. 

"Yes.  We  shall  spend  the  summer 
there,  if  we  like  it." 

"Then,  sir,  I'll  be  sure  to  see  you 
again.  Good  night,  Mr.  Jarrod." 

The  young  man  walked  on,  and  the 
lawyer  looked  after  him  approvingly. 

"He'll  do,"  he  muttered.  "He 
has  n't  crushed  down  the  pride  yet, 
and  I  hope  he  never  will.  But  he's 
got  a  backbone,  and  that's  worth 
everything!" 

In  drawing  a  chair  to  the  rail  he 
found  that  seated  beside  him  was  the 
little  fat  man  he  had  noticed  at  the 
Annex.  This  jovial  individual  was 
smoking  a  big  cigar  and  leaning  back 


24  tfamawaca  Folks 

contentedly  with  his  feet  against  the 
bulwark.  Jarrod  thought  the  expres- 
sion upon  the  round  face  invited  com- 
panionship. 

"Going  to  Tamawaca?"  he  asked. 

"Yep,"  said  Geo.  B.  Still. 

"Been  there  before?"  continued 
Jarrod,  leaning  back  in  turn. 

"Yep.     Own  a  cottage  there." 

"Oh,"  said  the  other;  "then  I'm 
glad  to  meet  you." 

"Because  I  own  a  cottage?" 

"No;  because  you  can  tell  me 
something  about  the  place." 

"Sure  thing!"  responded  Geo.  B. 
"Climate's  fine.  When  I  first  went 
there  I  had  a  bad  case  of  indigestion. 
Doc  said  I  was  as  good  as  dead.  Told 
me  to  eat  toasted  straw  for  breakfast 
and  have  my  wife  get  her  black  ready. 
Look  at  me  now!  Would  a  crape 
manufacturer  smile  at  my  picture? 
Pshaw!" 

"You  seem  very  well,"  remarked 


Jim  25 

Jarrod.  "Was  it  the  breakfast  food, 
or  the  climate?" 

"Climate,  I  guess.  My  taste  don't 
run  to  breakfast  foods.  I'd  make  a 
poor  horse.  So  I  shovelled  in  plenty 
of  welsh  rabbits  and  lobster  newburgs 
and  corn  fritters  and  such  remedies, 
an'  washed  'em  down  with  good  beer 
and  a  few  bottles  of  sherry.  Why, 
sir,  the  treatment  worked  like  magic! 
Digestion  perfect — pulse  reg'lar — 
spirits  gay  and  unconfined — happi- 
ness rampant.  That  Tamawaca  cli- 
mate's a  peach." 

"Do  you  think  I  can  rent  a  cottage 
there?' 

"Sure.  Ask  Wilder.  He'll  fix 
you." 

"Is  there  a  grocery  handy,  where 
one  can  purchase  supplies?" 

"Yep.    Wilder  runs  it." 

"And  a  meat  market?" 

"Wilder's." 

"Can  I  rent  a  good  boat,  for  fish- 
ing?' 


26  tfamawaca  Folks 

"Wilder  has  'em." 

"Good.  Dear  me !  I  forgot  to  get 
a  bathing  suit  in  Chicago." 

"Never  mind.  Wilder's  Bazaar 
has  'em.  Two  dollars  for  the  dollar 
kind." 

"What  time  does  the  boat  get  to 
Tamawaca. 

"Four  o'clock  in  the  morning.  But 
you  stay  on  board  and  ride  to  Koch- 
ton,  and  get  your  sleep  out.  Then, 
in  the  morning  you  take  a  trolley 
back  to  Tarn.  The  steamer  puts  your 
baggage  off  at  Iroquois  Bay,  just 
across  the  channel." 

"What  becomes  of  it?" 

"Wilder  ferries  it  over  for  twenty- 
five  cents  a  piece.  It's  too  far  to 
jump." 

"But  is  n't  that  a  heavy  charge?" 

"Not  for  Wilder.  It's  a  good  deal, 
of  course,  but  Wilder's  deals  are  al- 
ways good — for  Wilder.  You're 
lucky  he  don't  take  the  baggage." 

"Oh.     Is  he  that  kind?" 


Jim  27 

"Exactly.  What  you  get,  you  get 
of  Wilder.  What  Wilder  has  n't  got, 
you  don't  get.  When  you  allow  for 
expenses  you  want  to  figure  on  so 
many  dollars  for  living,  and  so  much 
to  Wilder  for  letting  you  live." 

"But  that's  an  outrage." 

Geo.  B.  laughed. 

"It  always  strikes  a  stranger  that 
way — till  he  gets  used  to  it,"  he  said. 
"I've  been  to  a  good  many  summer  re- 
sorts, in  my  day,  and  always  there's 
somebody  on  hand  to  relieve  the  in- 
nocent resorter  of  his  wad.  If  there 
was  n't,  you'd  feel  you'd  missed  some- 
thing. It's  like  going  to  law — don't 
matter  much  which  lawyer  you  go  to, 
you're  bound  to  be  robbed." 

Jarrod  smiled. 

"Therefore,  if  you  want  Tamawaca, 
sir,  you've  just  got  to  take  Wilder 
with  it,"  resumed  the  little  man;  "and 
perhaps  you  could  n't  be  half  so  hap- 
py there  if  Wilder  was  gone." 

"Does  he  own  the  place?" 


28  tfamaivaca  Folks 

"Of  course.  He  and  old  man  East- 
on.  Wilder  has  one-third  and  old  man 
Easton  two-thirds  of  the  whole  place ; 
but  then,  Easton  also  has  Wilder,  just 
the  same  as  all  the  rest  of  us  have 
him." 

"What  sort  of  a  man  is  Easton?" 

'Tine  old  religious  duffer,  who 
loves  to  pray  for  your  spiritual  well- 
fare  while  he  feels  for  your  pocket- 
book.  Public  opinion's  divided  be- 
tween the  two  partners.  Some  say 
Wilder' s  a  highwayman  and  Eas ton's 
a  robber,  while  others  claim  Eas  ton's 
the  highwayman  and  Wilder's  the 
robber.  You  can  take  your  choice." 

"What  a  bad  state  of  affairs !"  ejac- 
ulated Jarrod,  with  twinkling  eyes. 
"I'm  sorry  the  boat  has  started." 

"Never  mind.  It  is  n't  as  bad  as 
Atlantic  City,  by  a  long  shot.  Why, 
last  year  a  friend  of  mine  went  to  At- 
lantic City  with  a  letter  of  credit  and 
an  automobile,  and  in  three  months 
he  was  working  at  the  hotel  for  money 


Jim  29 

enough  to  get  home  and  the  hotel  man 
was  riding  in  his  automobile.  Tama- 
waca  isn't  as  bad  as  that,  so  sit  up 
and  look  pleasant.  Tamawaca's  the 
gem  of  the  world — a  heaven  for  loaf- 
ers, lovers,  bridge-players  and  stu- 
dents of  nature  —  including  human. 
You'll  like  it  there.  But  as  for  Wild- 
er and  Easton — say !  any  combination 
lock  on  your  inside  pocket?" 

"No." 

"Then  use  a  safety  pin,  and  keep 
your  coat  buttoned." 

Jarrod  smiled  again.  His  spirits 
rose.  He  scented  battle  as  a  cat  scents 
cream.  Here  was  a  delightful  condi- 
tion of  affairs  existing  in  a  tucked- 
away  resort  where  he  was  going  to 
spend  the  summer,  and  the  chances 
were  he  would  be  amply  amused. 
Any  capricious  manifestation  of  hu- 
man nature  was  sure  to  charm  him,  no 
matter  what  phase  it  exhibited,  and 
the  man  who  had  for  years  fought  and 
conquered  the  terrible  Crosbys  was 


30  tfamawaca  Folks 

not  likely  to  shrink  from  a  pair  so 
frankly  enterprising  as  Easton  and 
Wilder  seemed  to  be.  And,  if  he  must 
put  in  three  long  months  at  Tama- 
waca,  Jarrod  simply  had  to  be 
amused. 

He  slept  well  on  the  boat  that  night 
— the  first  sound  sleep  he  had  enjoyed 
for  months. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WILDER. 

When  Jarrod  arrived  at  Tamawaca 
in  the  course  of  the  next  forenoon  he 
found  all  prophecies  most  amply  ful- 
filled. Fronting  the  beautiful  bay 
was  a  group  of  frame  buildings  bear- 
ing various  signs  of  one  general 
trend:  "Wilder's  Grocery;"  "Wild- 
er's Ice  Cream  and  Soda  Fountain;55 
"Wilder's  Model  Market;"  "Wilder's 
Boat  Livery;"  "Wilder's  Post  Office" 
(leased  to  Uncle  Sam;)  "Wilder's 
Bakery;"  "Wilder's  Fresh-Buttered 
Pop-Corn;"  "Wilder's  Bazaar;" 
"Wilder's  Real  Estate  Office,"  etc., 
etc. 

As  the  lawyer  helped  his  family  off 
the  car  a  man  dashed  out  of  the  gro- 
cery, ran  up  to  him  and  seized  both 
his  hands  in  a  welcoming  grip.  He 
was  a  stocky  built,  middle  sized  man, 
with  round  features  chubby  and 
31 


32  Tamawaca  Folks 

merry,  a  small  mouth,  good  teeth  and 
soft  brown  eyes  that  ought  to  have 
been  set  in  a  woman's  face. 

"My  dear,  dear  boy,  I'm  delighted 
to  see  you — indeed  I  am!  Welcome 
to  Tamawaca,"  said  the  man,  in  a  cor- 
dial, cheery  tone.  "And  these  are  the 
dear  children!  My,  my — how  they 
have  grown !  And  Mrs.  Jenkins,  too, 
I  declare!  Nora,  my  dear,"  turning 
to  a  pleasant  faced  woman  who  had 
followed  him  out,  "here  are  our  dear 
friends  the  Jenkinses,  that  Mr.  Mer- 
rington  wrote  us  about.  Allow  me  to 
present  Mrs.  Wilder,  my  dear  Mrs. 
Jenkins,  and  I'm  sure  she's  as  glad  to 
see  you  as  I  am  myself." 

"Pardon  me,"  said  the  lawyer,  a 
little  stiffly;  "my  name  is  Jarrod." 

"Of  course — of  course!"  cried 
Wilder,  unabashed.  "Nora,  my  dear, 
help  me  to  welcome  our  good  friends 
the  Jarrods,  that  Dr.  Brush  has  writ- 
ten us  about.  How  nice  to  see  you  at 
last  in  lovely  Tamawaca!  And  the 


Wilder  33 

children  will  have  the  time  of  their 
lives;  and  Mrs.  Jarrod  will  be  de- 
lighted with  our  swell  society — noth- 
ing sweller  in  all  Michigan,  I  assure 
you!" 

"It's  awfully  nice  to  see  you  here," 
added  Mrs.  Wilder,  as  smiling  and 
cheerful  as  her  mate.  "Won't  you 
come  into  the  bazaar  and  sit  down  for 
awhile?  Perhaps  Mr.  Jarrod  has  some 
business  to  talk  over  with  my  hus- 
band." 

"Yes,"  said  Jarrod,  as  his  wife  and 
children  trooped  after  the  pleasant 
little  lady  into  the  roomy  and  well- 
stocked  bazaar;  "I  want  to  enquire 
about  Grant's  cottage.  He  says  you 
have  the  rental  of  it." 

Wilder's  face  fell,  and  his  merry 
expression  gave  way  to  one  of  abso- 
lute despair. 

"Dear  me!"  he  exclaimed,  as  if 
deeply  distressed;  "how  very  unfor- 
tunate. Grant's  cottage  was  rented 


34  ^amawaca  Folks 

only  last  evening.  How  sad  that  I 
did  not  know  you  wanted  it!" 

"But  there  are  others,  of  course," 
suggested  Jarrod,  after  a  moment's 
thought. 

"Let — me — see,"  mused  Wilder, 
reflectively.  "There's  the  Stakes 
place — but  that's  rented;  and  Kim- 
ball's  is  gone,  too;  and  Smith's,  and 
Johnson's,  and  McGraw's — all  rented 
and  occupied.  My  dear  boy,  I'm 
afraid  you're  up  against  it.  There 
is  n't  a  cottage  left  in  Tamawaca  to 
rent !  But  never  mind;  you  shall  stay 
with  me — you  and  the  wife  and  the 
dear  little  ones.  I  live  over  the  gro- 
cery, you  know — really  swell  apart- 
ments. You  shall  stay  there  as  my 
guests,  and  you'll  be  very  welcome,  I 
assure  you." 

"Oh,  I  can't  do  that,  Wilder,"  said 
Jarrod,  much  annoyed.  They  had 
strolled,  by  this  time,  to  the  porch  of 
the  grocery  and  bazaar — a  long  build- 
ing facing  the  bay  on  one  side  and  the 


Wilder  35 

hotel  on  the  other.  It  had  wide 
porches  set  with  tables  for  the  con- 
venience of  consumers  of  ice-cream 
sodas.  Inside,  the  building  was  di- 
vided into  the  meat  market,  the  gro- 
cery and  the  bazaar,  all  opening  on  to 
the  same  porch. 

Jarrod  sat  down  at  one  of  the  ta- 
bles, feeling  homeless  and  despond- 
ent. He  had  eaten  a  dreadful  break- 
fast in  Kochton,  an  hour  before,  and 
it  had  n't  agreed  with  him.  Through 
the  open  door  of  the  bazaar  he  beheld 
Mrs.  Wilder  talking  earnestly  with 
his  wife.  She  had  given  his  little  girl 
a  large  and  expensive  doll  to  hold  and 
his  little  boy  a  full-rigged  toy  sail- 
boat to  play  with. 

"Ah!"  cried  Wilder,  slapping  the 
table  with  emphasis;  "I  have  it!  You 
are  saved,  dear  boy — and  not  only 
saved  but  highly  favored  by  fortune. 
How  lucky  I  happend  to  think  of  it!" 

"What  is  it?'  asked  Jarrod,  with 
reviving  interest. 


36  Tamawaca  Folks 

"Why,  I've  got  Lake  View  for  sale, 
the  prettiest  and  finest  cottage  in  the 
whole  Park.  You  shall  have  it,  dear 
boy — you  shall  have  it  for  a  song." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  buy  a  cot- 
tage," protested  Jarrod.  "I've  not 
even  seen  Tamawaca  yet,  and  I  don't 
know  as  I'll  like  it." 

"Not  like  it!  Not  like  Tama- 
waca!" Wilder's  voice  was  sad  and 
reproachful.  "My  dear  boy,  every- 
body likes  Tamawaca.  You  can't  help 
liking  it.  Come,  I'll  show  you  the 
charms  of  our  little  heaven  upon 
earth,  and  at  the  same  time  you  shall 
examine  lovely  Take  View/  ' 

During  this  conversation  a  little 
group  of  people  had  been  gathering  a 
few  paces  behind  Wilder,  all  with 
anxious  faces  but  a  diffidence  about 
interrupting  him.  Wilder  noted  this 
group  and  excused  himself  from  Jar- 
rod  for  a  moment. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Jones,"  he  said,  in  his 
earnest,  winning  tones,  "give  me  your 


Wilder  37 

baggage  checks  and  I'll  have  the 
trunks  up  to  your  cottage  in  a  jiffy. 
Certainly,  Miss  Vanderslop,  I'll  be 
glad  to  telephone  for  you — no  trouble 
at  all!  Here,  William,"  to  his  clerk 
in  the  grocery,  "cash  this  check  for  Mr. 
Chambers.  What's  that,  Mrs.  Har- 
ringford?  the  bread  sour?  Too  bad, 
dear  girl,  too  bad !  But  accidents  will 
sometimes  happen.  William,  give 
Mrs.  Harringford  her  money  back; 
the  bread's  sour.  What  is  it,  Mr. 
Harden?  Gasoline  stove  won't  work? 
I'll  have  a  man  up  to  fix  it  in  half  an 
hour;  don't  worry,  dear  boy;  half  an 
hour  at  the  latest.  Good  morning, 
Mrs.  Still!  here  are  the  keys  to  your 
cottage.  I've  had  the  women  clean  it 
and  put  it  in  order  and  it's  all  ready 
for  you  to  walk  into  and  sit  down.  No 
trouble  at  all — no  thanks — glad  to  be 
of  use  to  you.  What  is  it,  my  little 
man?  a  note  from  mamma?  Ah,  yes; 
tell  her  it  will  give  me  great  delight 
to  reserve  a  berth  for  her  on  tomor- 


38  Tamawaca  Folks 

row  night's  boat.  And  now,  Mr.  Jar- 
rod,  I'm  at  your  service." 

"You  seem  to  be  a  busy  man,"  said 
Jarrod,  with  a  smile. 

"Usually  I  am,"  replied  Wilder, 
mopping  his  forehead;  "but  there's 
not  much  doing  this  morning;  it's  too 
early  in  the  season;  I'm  resting  up  for 
the  busy  days  coming.  Let  us  walk 
over  to  the  Lake  front,  and  I'll  aston- 
ish you  with  the  beauty  of  our  fairy- 
land." 

So  Jarrod,  leaving  his  family  to  be 
entertained  by  Mrs.  Wilder,  who 
seemed  an  eminently  fitting  spouse 
for  her  cheery  husband,  followed  this 
modern  Poo-Bah  along  a  broad  ce- 
ment walk  that  led  past  the  hotel  and 
through  a  shady  grove.  There  were 
cottages  on  every  side,  clustered  all 
too  thickly  to  be  very  enticing,  but 
neatly  built  and  pleasant  enough  for  a 
summer's  outing.  A  few  paces  more 
brought  them  to  a  magnificent  view 
of  the  great  inland  sea,  and  soon  they 


Wilder  39 

emerged  upon  a  broad  beach  lapped 
by  the  rolling  waves  of  grand  old 
Michigan. 

Jarrod's  eyes  sparkled.  It  was 
beautiful  at  this  point,  he  was  forced 
to  admit,  and  the  cool  breath  of  the 
breeze  that  swept  over  the  waters  sent 
an  exhilarating  vigor  to  the  bottom  of 
his  lungs  and  brought  a  sudden  glow 
to  his  cheek. 

Along  the  lake  front  was  another 
row  of  pretty  cottages,  running  north 
and  south  for  a  distance  of  half  a  mile 
or  more.  At  frequent  intervals  an 
avenue  led  from  the  beach  back  into 
the  splendid  forest,  where,  Wilder  ex- 
plained, were  many  more  cottages  hid- 
den among  the  trees. 

"Some  people  prefer  to  live  in  the 
forest,"  said  he,  "while  others  like  to 
be  nearer  the  water.  The  cottage  you 
have  just  bought  is  near  the  big  lake, 
and  finely  located." 

"I  did  n't  know  I  had  purchased  it, 
as  yet,"  remarked  Jarrod,  drily. 


4O  Tamawaca  Folks 

"I  forgot,"  said  Wilder,  laughing. 
"There  are  a  good  many  things  for 
me  to  think  of,  you  know,  and  some- 
times I  get  'em  mixed." 

"I  see." 

"Here,"  continued  the  guide,  as 
they  went  south  along  the  wide  beach 
walk,  "is  the  residence  of  the  Father 
of  Tamawaca,  my  dear  partner  Mr. 
Easton.  A  fine  man,  sir,  but  erring 
in  judgment  now  and  then."  He 
stumbled  on  a  loose,  worn  out  plank, 
and  came  to  a  halt.  "This  walk,  dear 
boy,  ought  to  be  repaired.  I've  talked 
to  Easton  about  it  more  than  once, 
but  he  says  he's  too  poor  to  squander 
money  on  public  improvements.  It's 
his  idea  that  the  cottagers  should  re- 
pair the  walks." 

"Is  n't  this  in  front  of  his  own  resi- 
dence?" asked  Jarrod. 

"Y-e-e-e-s;  seems  to  be.  But  East- 
on says,  and  with  justice,  that  all  the 
people  living  above  here  are  obliged 
to  use  this  walk  to  get  down  town — 


Wilder  41 

where  the  store  and  post-office  are  lo- 
cated— and  so  they  ought  to  see  that 
it's  kept  in  proper  condition." 

"Who  owns  the  street?"  enquired 
Jarrod. 

"Why,  we  own  it,  of  course — East- 
on  and  I.  You  see,  this  whole  place 
was  once  a  farm  and  some  men  bought 
it  and  laid  out  and  platted  Tamawaca 
Park.  They  incorporated  under  the 
laws  of  Michigan  as  a  summer  resort 
company,  and  so  they  kept  the  control 
of  all  the  streets  and  public  grounds 
in  their  own  hands.  It's  a  private  set- 
tlement, you  understand,  and  when  a 
man  buys  one  of  our  lots  he  acquires 
the  right  to  walk  over  our  streets  as 
much  as  he  likes — as  long  as  he  be- 
haves himself." 

"And  if  he  does  n't?' 

"If  he  does  n't  we  can  order  him 
off." 

"Was  the  original  plat  recorded?" 
asked  Jarrod. 

"Yes;  of  course." 


42  ^amawaca  folks 

"With  the  streets  and  public 
grounds  laid  out  in  detail?" 

"Certainly." 

"Then,"  said  the  lawyer,  "the  first 
man  that  bought  a  lot  here  acquired  a 
title  to  all  your  public  streets  and 
grounds,  and  you  lost  the  control  of 
them  forever." 

"Nonsense!"  cried  Wilder. 

"I've  read  law  a  bit,"  said  Jarrod, 
"and  I  know." 

"Michigan  law  is  different,  dear 
boy,"  announced  Wilder,  composed- 
ly. "Still  we  mean  to  do  what's 
right,  and  to  treat  every  cottage  owner 
fair  and  square — as  long  as  he  does 
what  we  tell  him  to." 

Jarrod's  face  was  beaming.  He  had 
not  been  so  highly  amused  for  months 
— not  since  the  Crosbys  had  sold  out. 
He  had  n't  seen  Lake  View  Cottage 
as  yet,  but  already  he  had  decided  to 
buy  it.  A  condition  that  would  have 
induced  an  ordinary  man  to  turn  tail 
and  avoid  Tamawaca  was  an  irresisti- 


Wilder  43 

ble  charm  to  this  legal  pugilist.  But 
his  cue  was  now  to  be  silent  and  let 
Wilder  talk. 

"Here,  dear  boy,"  that  seraphic  in- 
dividual was  explaining,  "is  where 
Noggs  lives,  the  wealthy  merchant 
prince  of  Grand  Rapids.  And  here's 
the  cottage  of  our  distinguished  au- 
thor. Don't  have  to  work,  you  know. 
Just  writes  books  and  people  buy  'em. 
Snap,  ain't  it?" 

"Looks  that  way,"  said  Jarrod. 
"What's  that  cottage  standing  in  the 
middle  of  yonder  avenue?" 

"Oh,  that  belongs  to  old  man 
Easton." 

"Why  is  it  there?" 

"Why,  lake  front  lots  are  scarce, 
you  know;  but  cottages  on  the  lake 
front  rent  for  good  money.  So  Easton 
built  one  in  the  street,  and  rents  it  at 
a  high  figure.  Clever  scheme,  ain't 
it?" 

"Did  n't  the  cottage  owners  ob- 
ject?" 


44  famawaca  Folks 

"It  was  built  in  the  winter,  when 
no  one  was  here.  When  the  resorters 
came  in  the  spring  and  saw  it,  they 
wailed  an'  tore  their  hair.  But  it  was 
too  late,  then.  While  they  swore, 
Easton  prayed  for  'em;  he's  religious. 
The  old  saint's  got  lots  o'  cottages  on 
public  grounds,  but  no  one  can  make 
him  tear  'em  down  because  we  control 
the  public  grounds  ourselves.  What- 
ever's  public  here  belongs  to  me  an' 
Easton.  Understand  ?" 

"Perfectly." 

"Here's  where  the  big  stock-yards 
man  from  Chicago  lives.  Pretty  place, 
eh?  And  here's  the  cottage  of  George 
B.  Still,  the  magnate  of  Quincy." 

"I've  met  him." 

"Fine  fellow,  and  so's  his  wife. 
One  of  the  largest  grocery  bills,  sir,  at 
the  Park!  Ah,  here  we  come  to  the 
cottage  of  the  famous  philanthropist 
from  Chicago  Commons — Professor 
Graylor.  Used  to  be  a  rich  man,  but 
spent  everything  he  had  to  convert 


Wilder  45 


the  heathen  dagos  of  the  Windy  City. 
Now  all  he's  got  left  is  this  cottage 
and  a  clear  conscience — poor  man!" 

"Why  do  you  say  cpoor  man'  ?" 

"Because,  dear  boy,  a  clear  con- 
science ain't  an  available  asset.  I've 
got  one  myself,  and  I  know,"  said 
Wilder,  plaintively.  "But  here  we  are 
at  Maple  Walk — one  of  the  most  pic- 
turesque avenues  in  town.  Please 
climb  these  few  steps;  it  is  on  this 
walk  your  charming  cottage  stands." 

"Mine?" 

"To  be  sure.  No  man  of  judgment, 
dear  boy,  would  refuse  to  buy  it,  and  I 
can  see  you  're  a  good  bit  wiser  than 
the  average  resorter.  I'm  so  glad  you 


came!' 


:Thank  you." 

"You  're  just  the  sort  of  man  we 
need,  Mr.  Jarrod — the  sort  we're  al- 
ways lookin'  for." 

"To  walk  on  your  streets  and  repair 
your  sidewalks?" 

"Exactly." 


46  ^famawaca  Folks 

"And  patronize  your  mercantile  es- 
tablishments?" 

Wilder  laughed  heartily. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked,  laying  a  fa- 
miliar and  caressing  hand  on  the  oth- 
er's shoulder.  "You've  got  to  live; 
an'  poor  Wilder's  got  to  live." 

"Poor  Wilder  can't  help  living,  it 
seems  to  me,"  returned  Jarrod,  reflec- 
tively. "All  these  people  are  forced 
to  trade  with  you,  because  there's  no 
one  else  to  patronize.  You've  estab- 
lished a  monopoly  here." 

"It  ain't  that,"  said  Wilder,  becom- 
ing serious.  "I  don't  want  to  monop- 
olize anything,  I'm  sure.  All  I  want 
is  for  people  to  come  here  and  have  a 
good  time,  and  I  can't  trust  anyone 
but  myself  to  give  'em  the  right  serv- 
ice and  the  right  goods  at  the  right 
prices.  That's  why  I  run  everything 
myself — and  lose  money  year  after 
year  a-doin'  it." 

"How  can  you  lose  money?" 

"Why,  on  the  folks  that  don't  come 


Wilder  47 

here.  If  Tamawaca  was  double  the 
size,  I'd  make  double  the  money, 
would  n't  I?  But  it's  a  small  place, 
you  see,  and  no  man's  so  energetic 
that  he  can  get  more  than  there  is.  So 
I  work  every  season  just  to  accommo- 
date the  people.  When  you've  been 
here  a  little  while  you'll  find  that  out. 
I'll  cash  your  checks,  lend  you  money, 
run  your  errands,  settle  your  quarrels 
with  your  wife,  reconcile  your  hired 
girl  to  sleeping  in  the  basement  and 
play  blind-man's-buff  with  your  chil- 
dren. That's  Wilder — everybody's 
friend  but  his  own,  and  too  honest  for 
his  own  good." 

"Indeed,  Mr.  Wilder,"  said  Jarrod, 
"I  can  see  already  that  you  are  a  re- 
markable man.  What  could  Tama- 
waca do  without  you?" 

"That's  it!  Why,  dear  boy,  it 
would  bust  higher  than  Guilderoy's 
kite!  That's  why  I  take  such  good 
care  of  my  health.  But  here  we  are 


48  ^famawaca  Folks 

at  Lake  View.  Behold  your  future 
home!" 

Jarrod  liked  the  place.  It  was  high 
enough  to  command  an  outlook  upon 
the  lake  and  to  catch  every  breeze,  yet 
not  too  high  for  an  ordinary  climb. 

"What's  the  price?"  he  asked. 

"Just  step  inside  and  see  the  rooms. 
It's  magnificently  furnished." 

"What  do  you  ask  for  the  place?" 

"There's  a  fine  pump  in  the  back 
yard  and  a  sideboard  in  the  dining 


room.' 


"How  much?" 

"It  was  painted  only  this  spring 
and  everything's  in  apple-pie  order. 
Just  step  inside." 

Jarrod  sat  down  on  the  steps. 

"I'll  give  you  a  thousand  dollars 
for  it,"  he  said. 

"My  dear  boy,  the  lot  alone's  worth 
fifteen  hundred." 

"Is  the  cottage  on  the  lot?" 

"Why  do  you  ask?" 

"It  don't  look  it." 


Wilder  49 

"Never  mind  that.  I'll  sell  you  the 
lot  and  the  cottage.  If  the  house  is  n't 
on  the  lot  it's  somewhere  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  no  one's  going  to  ask 
any  questions." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  they  dare  n't.  They're 
all  in  the  same  boat.  There  has  n't 
been  a  surveyor  allowed  in  Tamawaca 
for  ages.  When  a  man  wants  to  build, 
he  buys  a  lot  of  me  an'  Easton  an' 
then  hunts  for  the  lot.  If  he  thinks 
he's  found  it,  he's  lucky.  If  there 
don't  appear  to  be  a  lot  where  he 
thinks  it  ought  to  be,  he  just  builds  his 
cottage  and  takes  the  chances." 

"All  right,"  said  Jarrod.  "I'll  take 
my  chances.  How  much  for  Lake 
View?" 

"Well,  dear  boy,  I've  taken  a  liking 
to  you,  and  so  I'm  willing  to  sacrifice. 
I'll  pay  good  money  to  get  you  here 
as  a  resident.  But  it's  a  dreadful 
shame  to  think  how  property's  ad- 
vanced here  lately.  I've  tried  to  keep 


50  tfamawaca  Folks 

it  down,  but  I  can't.  Here's  a  case, 
though,  where  I  can  forget  high  prices 
and  be  generous.  You  can  have  Lake 
View  for  four  thousand  dollars.3' 

"What!" 

"And  I'll  trust  to  luck  to  keep  Nora 
and  me  out  o'  the  poor-house." 

Jarrod  reflected. 

"I'll  give  you  two  thousand,"  he 
said. 

"Then  it's  yours.  Do  you  want  to 
go  in  and  look  around,  or  shall  we 
walk  back  and  get  your  wife  and  chil- 
dren, so  they  can  begin  to  enjoy  their 
new  home?" 

"We'll  go  back,"  said  Jarrod,  won- 
dering to  what  extent  he  had  been 
bled.  "I'll  have  plenty  of  chances  to 
see  the  inside  of  my  cottage  later." 

"True.  And  while  we're  down  at 
the  store  we'll  make  out  the  list  for 
groceries  and  meats  and  gasoline  and 
such  things,  and  I'll  send  'em  up  in 
fifteen  minutes." 

Mrs.  Jarrod  was  glad  to  see  her  hus- 


Wilder  51 

band  again,  although  in  his  absence 
Mrs.  Wilder  had  thoroughly  posted 
her  in  regard  to  everyone  of  note  at 
Tamawaca.  She  was  rather  aston- 
ished at  the  rapidity  with  which  they 
had  acquired  citizenship,  but  went  to 
William  at  once  to  order  her  groceries 
and  supplies,  while  Jarrod  drew  his 
check  to  pay  for  Lake  View  and  then 
settled  with  Mrs.  Wilder  for  the  doll 
and  the  sail-boat — one  of  which  had 
been  broken  while  the  other  his  dear 
child  refused  to  part  with  without  a 
scene. 

Two  hours  later  they  had  taken  pos- 
session of  their  cottage,  unpacked 
their  trunks  and  settled  themselves 
for  the  summer.  The  children  had  ta- 
ken off  their  shoes  and  stockings  and 
run  down  to  the  lake  to  paddle  around 
at  the  water's  edge,  where  it  was  per- 
fectly safe ;  Mrs.  Jarrod  was  instruct- 
ing a  maid  that  Wilder  had  promptly 
secured  and  sent  to  her,  while  Jarrod 
himself — collarless  and  in  his  shirt- 


52  ^amawaca  Folks 

sleeves — had  drawn  an  easy  chair  out 
upon  the  porch  and  set  himself  down 
to  think. 

On  a  tree  facing  him  was  a  sign  that 
read:  "Ask  Wilder."  These  signs 
he  had  noticed  everywhere  at  Tama- 
waca,  and  as  he  stared  at  this  one  he 
smiled  grimly. 

"There's  no  need  asking  Wilder," 
he  murmured.  "Let  him  alone  for  a 
time  and  he'll  tell  you  everything — 
even  more  than  he  imagines  he  does. 
But  I'm  glad  I  came.  Wilder's  a  gen- 
ius, and  his  nerve  is  a  challenge  to  all 
the  world!" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

JUST  GIRLS. 

She  was  rather  pretty,  judged  by 
the  ordinary  standards.  The  other 
girls  called  her  "the  heiress,"  because 
she  so  frankly  confided  to  them  the  in- 
formation that  her  uncle — an  enor- 
mously wealthy  man — had  no  one  to 
inherit  his  millions  but  herself,  and 
so  had  made  his  will  in  her  favor. 
Meantime,  while  he  continued  to  live, 
this  estimable  old  gentleman  gave  his 
niece  "just  anything  I  want,  girls!  He 
just  begs  me  to  spend  all  the  money  I 
can,  and  is  sorry  I  don't  spend  more." 

Such  opulence  was  not  observable 
in  the  appearance  of  the  young  lady, 
nor  did  it  lead  her  to  reckless  extrava- 
gances. She  bought  about  as  many  ice- 
cream sodas  as  the  other  girls  who 
were  shy  of  rich  uncles,  and  dressed 
equally  as  well  as  the  majority  of  the 
young  women  at  Tamawaca,  but  no 
53 


54  Tamawaca  Folks 

better.  She  had  no  jewel  cabinet,  or 
automobile,  or  pug  dog  or  embroid- 
ered underwear;  so  her  chums  and 
comrades,  who  only  knew  her  at  this 
summer  resort,  were  wicked  enough  to 
rally  her  upon  her  vast  wealth  and 
slyly  insinuate  "they  were  from  Mis- 
souri" by  dubbing  her  "the  heiress." 

Clara  accepted  the  title  with  much 
content.  She  felt  she  was  entitled  to 
the  distinction  and  held  her  chin  a  bit 
higher  when  she  passed  common  folks 
on  the  street. 

This  afternoon,  however,  she  was 
not  on  dress  parade.  Dressed  in  her 
bathing  uniform  she  reclined  upon  the 
sands  in  company  with  several  com- 
panions likewise  attired  and  listened 
eagerly  to  the  comments  of  two  young 
ladies  who  had  made  an  important  dis- 
covery. 

"He  came  this  morning,  girls,"  said 
Betty  Lowden,  impressively,  "and 
he's  just  the  cutest  thing  that  ever 
came  off  from  the  boat.  Such  eyes,  my 


Just  Girls  55 

dears ! — and  such  lovely  fluffy  hair — " 
"And  the  air  of  a  real  gentleman, 
girls,"  broke  in  Mary  Newton;  "you 
could  n't  mistake  him  anywhere;  and 
before  we  passed  him  he  looked  at  me 
twice!" 

"No  dear,  once  at  the  weather  sig- 
nal and  once  at  you,"  corrected  Betty. 
"I  noticed  especially,  for  afterward 
he  stared  at  me  a  whole  minute." 
"Why,  you  mean,  disagreeable — " 
"Seems  to  me,"  remarked  little 
Susie,  quietly,  "that  it's  a  bit  of  good 
luck  to  have  any  sort  of  a  young  man 
drop  down  upon  us  so  early  in  the  sea- 
son. I'm  told  they're  scarce  enough 
at  any  time  in  Tamawaca,  so  I  did  n't 
expect  to  meet  a  real  Charles  Augus- 
tus for  a  whole  month  yet." 

"His  name  is  James — James  In- 
gram. Mary  and  I  ran  to  look  at  the 
hotel  register,  and  he's  the  only  man 
that  arrived  today." 

"And  you  have  n't  met  him  yet, 


56  Tamawaca  Folks 

either,"  suggested  Mary,  with  an  ex- 
asperating air  of  proprietorship. 

"No?"  said  Susie,  demurely,  as  she 
dipped  her  hands  into  the  sands  and 
let  the  shining  grains  run  through  her 
fingers.  "But,"  glancing  dreamily 
over  the  heads  of  the  others,  "I  expect 
to  meet  him — within  the  next  half 
hour." 

"Oh,  Susie!" 

"How  absurd!" 

"I'll  bet  you  the  sundaes  for  the 
crowd,  Betty,  that  I'll  be  able  to  intro- 
duce him  to  all  of  you  in  half  an  hour 
from  this  second." 

"And  you've  never  met  him  be- 
fore?" suspiciously. 

"Never." 

"You  must  be  crazy,"  said  the  heir- 
ess, scornfully. 

"Don't  turn  around  quickly — take 
your  time,  Mary.  But  just  let  me 
know  if  that's  James,"  continued  the 
girl,  in  a  soft  voice. 

They  gave  a  jump,  then,  and  every 


Just  Girls  57 

one  of  them  stared  ruthlessly.  They 
saw  a  tall  young  man  come  down  the 
walk  at  a  swinging  stride,  glance 
hungrily  at  the  sparkling  waves,  and 
then  enter  "Wilder' s  Bathing  Estab- 
lishment," which  stood  near  by,  at  the 
water's  edge. 

"It  must  be  him!"  gasped  the  heir- 
ess. 

"It  is  him!"  cried  Betty,  trium- 
phantly. "Is  n't  he  splendid?" 

"Say,  girls,"  observed  Gladys  Mc- 
Gowan,  "let's  take  Susie's  bet.  It'll 
be  worth  a  round  of  sundaes  to  meet 
our  Jim  right  away,  without  losing 
precious  time." 

"Half  an  hour,  Susie?3 

"Half  an  hour  at  the  most,  girls." 

"Then  it's  a  go!  How  will  you 
manage  it?" 

Susie  still  played  with  the  sands, 
while  the  others  watched  her  nervous- 
ly. She  was  a  tiny  thing,  and  not  es- 
pecially beautiful,  but  the  girls  liked 
her  because  she  was  "good  fun"  and 


58  tfamawaca  Folks 

exhibited  a  rare  cleverness  at  times. 
All  they  knew  of  her  history  was  that 
Susie  was  visiting  at  the  Carleton  cot- 
tage. 

"You'll  help  me,  girls4?"  enquired 
the  adventurous  one. 

"Of  course.  But  what's  your  plan, 
dear?" 

"Wait." 

Presently  a  bather  emerged  from 
Wilder's  Establishment,  walked  down 
to  the  shore  near  them,  gave  a  glance 
of  brief  interest  at  the  group  of  girls 
reclining  upon  the  sands,  and  straight- 
way plunged  into  the  lake  and  swam 
out  with  bold,  vigorous  strokes. 

Every  feminine  eye  followed  him. 

"Jim  can  swim,  all  right,"  observed 
Gladys,  admiringly. 

Susie  nodded. 

"I  thought  he  could,"  she  said. 
"Now,  girls,  in  we  go!" 

"What!    Into  the  water?" 

"Certainly." 

"And  get  wet?" 


Just  Girls  59 

"It'll  take  a  week  to  dry  our  hair 
again!" 

Susie  ignored  the  protests. 

"Oh,  we'll  just  putter  around  a  bit. 
It  won't  hurt  us,"  she  said. 

They  arose  reluctantly  and  one  or 
two  dipped  a  stockinged  toe  into  the 
cool  water  and  cringed.  But  Susie 
waded  in  without  a  quiver,  and  real- 
izing the  importance  of  the  occasion 
they  grew  bold  and  slowly  followed 
her.  The  heiress  waited  until  the  very 
last,  and  hesitated  even  then.  But 
there  was  "Jim"  in  the  water,  and  it 
would  n't  do  to  let  the  other  girls  get 
an  advantage  over  her. 

So  presently  they  had  all  trailed 
along  the  gently  shelving  bottom  un- 
til the  water  had  reached  their  waists, 
and  in  the  case  of  little  Susie,  who  was 
in  the  lead,  it  came  quite  up  to  her 
chin. 

The  young  man  had  cleaved  his 
way  a  good  distance  out;  but  now  he 
was  returning  more  slowly,  leaping 


60  ^amawaca  Folks 

and  turning  like  a  dolphin  at  play  and 
then  floating  luxuriously  upon  his 
back  for  awhile.  As  he  drew  nearer 
to  the  girls  Susie  whispered  : 

"Now  scream — and  scream  loud, 
mind  you!" 

In  amazement  they  watched  her 
swim  out  a  few  strokes — for  the  girl 
could  actually  swim — and  then  saw 
her  throw  up  her  hands  and  heard  her 
cry  out. 

Wildly  they  shrieked  a  chorus.  It 
was  the  real  thing  in  the  way  of  a 
scream,  and  owed  part  of  its  vigor  to 
the  fact  that  Susie's  action  seemed 
horribly  natural. 

Instantly  the  young  man  rolled  off 
his  back  and  elevated  his  head,  tread- 
ing water.  He  saw  a  girl  struggling 
madly  and  heard  the  shrill  outcry  of 
her  companions.  A  moment  more  he 
was  dashing  to  the  rescue. 

Did  Susie  see  him  coming  through 
one  corner  of  her  eye?  She  disap- 
peared entirely,  and  was  under  water 


Just  Girls  6 1 

an  alarming  time.  When  she  finally 
bobbed  up  a  strong  arm  was  folded 
around  her  waist. 

"Don't  struggle!  Keep  quiet  and 
leave  it  to  me,"  said  Jim,  calmly;  and 
the  sound  of  his  voice  seemed  to  have 
a  soothing  effect  upon  the  drowning 
girl.  She  rested  in  his  circling  arm 
quite  comfortably,  and  before  another 
minute  he  found  a  footing  and  then 
waded  ashore  with  both  arms  around 
her,  while  Susie's  envious  friends 
scampered  out  beside  him  and  insisted 
upon  helping  to  restore  her. 

Very  gently  the  big  fellow  laid  her 
on  the  sand  and  knelt  anxiously  be- 
side her.  But  she  had  been  rescued  at 
exactly  the  right  moment,  so  now  she 
opened  her  eyes,  smiled  sweetly,  and 
heaved  a  sigh. 

"Oh,  thank  you!  Thank  you,  sir, 
for  saving  me!"  she  said.  The  voice 
was  pretty  husky  for  a  girl  that  had  to 
be  held,  but  Jim  was  young  and  did 
not  notice  that. 


62  ^amawaca  Folks 

"Don't  mention  it,"  he  replied,  de- 
lighted to  find  she  was  likely  to  live. 
"You'd  better  get  home  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible, and  have  a  good  rub-down  and 
a  glass  of  tonic.  May  I  assist  you?" 

"If  you  please.  I  know  it's  foolish 
and — and  silly;  but  I'm  so  frightened 
and  weak  yet." 

"Naturally,"  replied  the  sympa- 
thetic hero;  and  then  the  heiress,  who 
could  stand  no  more  foolishness, 
jerked  Susie  to  her  feet  before  she  had 
a  chance  to  smile  into  the  boy's  grave 
eyes  again.  That  was  wasted  energy, 
of  course,  for  Susie  just  now  absolute- 
ly controlled  the  situation.  Her  deli- 
cate form  swayed  so  visibly  that  the 
boy  seized  her  arm  at  once,  and  Clara 
thoughtfully  usurped  the  other  arm 
and  began  to  lavish  such  tender  devo- 
tion upon  her  that  Gladys  laughed 
outright — a  cold,  harsh  laugh  that 
sent  a  shiver  down  the  heiress'  back 
and  made  her  vow  to  "get  even"  at 
the  first  opportunity. 


Just  Girls  63 

Mischievous  Susie  was  dying  for  a 
good  laugh  herself  at  the  complete 
success  of  her  stratagem;  but  she  mas- 
tered the  impulse  and,  letting  Jim 
support  her  as  much  as  he  would,  tot- 
tered slowly  along  the  beach  in  the  di- 
rection of  home.  The  girls  surround- 
ed her,  flooding  her  with  eager  ques- 
tions of  how  it  had  happened  and  how 
she  felt,  and  generous  praises  of  her 
brave  and  noble  rescuer.  For  none  ex- 
cept the  heiress  could  withhold  her  ad- 
miration for  Susie's  cleverness  or  was 
the  least  bit  jealous. 

On  the  way  they  were  all  intro- 
duced, in  the  most  natural  manner,  to 
the  man  of  the  hour,  and  then  the 
heroine  enquired  in  a  languid  tone 
that  could  not  disguise  her  meaning: 
"What  time  is  it,  Clara  dear?" 

"Oh,  less  than  half  an  hour  since 
you  attempted  suicide,"  returned  the 
heiress,  composedly.  "Brace  up,  Susie 
dear,  for  I'm  going  to  buy  you  a  sun- 
dae tonight/' 


64  T^amawaca  Folks 

Of  course  the  young  man  did  n't  un- 
derstand this  speech.  He  left  the  girl 
"whose  life  he  had  saved"  at  the 
Carleton  porch,  and  begged  permis- 
sion to  call  in  the  evening  and  enquire 
after  her — a  permission  instantly 
granted. 

Then,  with  Betty  and  Mary  and 
Gladys  and  the  heiress  all  chattering 
in  a  breath  as  they  surrounded  him, 
Jim  returned  to  the  bathing  establish- 
ment, where  they  separated.  The 
heiress  was  a  pretty  girl,  and  the  boy 
smiled  as  he  bade  her  good-bye. 

As  he  dressed  himself  he  could  not 
help  congratulating  himself  upon  his 
good  luck  in  meeting  this  "bunch  of 
nice  girls"  on  the  very  day  of  his  ar- 
rival. It  augured  a  pleasant  vaca- 
tion. 

As  for  the  "bunch,"  Gladys  said  on 
the  way  home  : 

"Is  n't  Susie  a  deep  one,  though?" 

"She  thinks  she  is,"  answered  the 
heiress,  with  a  toss  of  her  shapely 


Just  Girls  65 

head.  "Do  you  remember,  dear,  how 
the  cat's  paw  once  pulled  the  chest- 
nuts out  of  the  fire  for  some  one  else?" 

"Oh,  yes;"  answered  Gladys,  snif- 
fing. "It  was  for  a  monkey,  was  n't 
it?" 

Those  sweet,  sweet  girls! 


CHAPTER  V. 

GETTING  ACQUAINTED. 

Mrs.  Still,  who  lived  but  a  few 
doors  from  the  Jarrods,  called  upon 
Mrs.  Jarrod  the  next  afternoon,  and 
after  welcoming  her  cordially  to  Tam- 
awaca  and  congratulating  her  upon 
acquiring  pretty  Lake  View,  invited 
her  and  Mr.  Jarrod  to  attend  a  card 
party  at  the  yacht  club  that  evening. 

Jarrod  did  n't  play  "five  hundred," 
but  when  the  good-natured  Stills 
called  for  them  soon  after  dinner  he 
complacently  accompanied  his  wife  to 
the  club,  which  was  located  half  way 
around  the  bay  and  was  reached  by 
one  of  Wilder' s  ferry-boats  after  a  five 
minutes'  ride  from  the  Tamawaca 
dock.  It  was  a  pretty  building,  gay 
with  electric  lights.  On  the  ground 
floor  was  a  reception  room  filled  with 
sailing  trophies,  and  a  big  room 
reached  through  swinging  doors  which 
66 


Getting  Acquainted  67 

was  devoted  to  the  needs  of  thirsty 
men.  The  upper  floor  was  one  large 
room  set  with  card  tables,  and  here 
Mrs.  Still  introduced  Mrs.  Jarrod  to  a 
numerous  concourse  of  merry  folks 
who  were  all  impatient  to  get  at  the 
cards  and  gamble  fiercely  for  two 
hours  or  so  to  win  a  set  of  prizes  that 
represented  an  outlay  of  about  seven- 
ty-five cents  in  the  aggregate.  When 
the  "prizes'5  were  won  they  were  usu- 
ally either  dropped  quietly  into  the 
lake  on*  the  way  home  or  reserved  to 
be  gambled  for  at  some  other  social 
gathering.  I  knew  one  lady  who  won 
the  same  prize  seven  times  in  the  same 
season,  and  likewise  gave  it  away 
seven  times.  The  only  reason  that  she 
kept  it  then  was  that  her  guests  flatly 
refused  to  accept  it  as  a  trophy,  it  hav- 
ing become  sadly  shop-worn. 

Jarrod  was  ushered  by  Geo.  B.  into 
the  thirst  room  and  introduced  to  a 
solemn  group  of  three  or  four  men 
who  wore  yachting  caps  and  shirts, 


68  tfamawaca  Folks 

and  had  brass  buttons  sewn  on  their 
blue  serge  coats. 

"Howdy,"  said  Berwin,  a  man  with 
a  bald  head  and  serious  eyes.  "Hear 
you've  bought  a  cottage,  Jarrod. 
Want  to  join  our  Club?" 

"I'd  like  to,"  the  lawyer  replied, 
hesitating;  "but  I've — " 

"Ten  dollars,  please.  That's  the 
price  for  season  membership." 

Jarrod  paid  it. 

"But  I've  got  no  sail-boat,"  said  he. 

"That's  all  right,"  observed  Stakes, 
a  little  fellow  with  a  peppery  and 
pugnacious  countenance.  "None  of 
the  crowd  upstairs  owns  a  sail-boat, 
but  they're  all  club  members,  just  the 
same.  We  four — Homperton,  Ber- 
win, Diller  and  myself — own  boats, 
and  we're  the  yacht  club  in  reality. 
We  built  this  shop  on  credit,  and  run 
it  ourselves,  but  we  let  the  folks  up- 
stairs support  it  by  paying  ten  dollars 
a  year.  It  pleases  'em  to  be  members 
of  a  yacht  club,  you  know,  and  helps 


Getting  Acquainted  69 

us  out  financially.  Much  obliged  for 
your  donation." 

"Do  I  have  a  vote?"  asked  Jarrod, 
much  amused  by  this  frank  explana- 
tion. 

"Of  course;  but  according  to  our 
constitution  only  men  with  sail-boats 
can  be  officers  of  the  club.  So  you 
must  vote  for  us." 

"Once,"  remarked  Diller,  a  fine 
looking  chap  who  was  intently  inter- 
ested in  a  squat  bottle  and  a  siphon, 
"I  had  money  and  ambition  and  no 
sail-boat.  Who  was  I,  anyhow?  A 
landsman!  A  nobody!  Didn't  belong 
to  a  yacht  club,  or  anything  else." 

"Except  Mrs.  Diller,"  interjected 
Geo.  B.,  with  a  sly  wink  at  Jarrod. 

"Then  I  bought  a  sail-boat — " 

"And  a  dingy,"  added  Geo.  B. 

"And  paid  up  the  debts  of  the  club 
and  was  made  Commodore.  Commo- 
dore Diller!  Who  was  I  then?  Why, 
ev'rybody  said:  'Morn'n',  Com-mo- 
dore !'  'Have  a  smoke,  Com-mo-dore !' 


yo  Tamawaca  Folks 

'One  more  with  me,  Com-mo-dore !' 
Ah;  that's  bein'  somebody,  that  is. 
Commodore  Diller !  Com-mo-dore 
Dil-ler." 

"Some  men  acquire  greatness,"  said 
Jarrod,  sympathetically. 

'Tact  is,"  remarked  the  solemn  Ber- 
win,  "that  Diller's  a  fine  sailor.  Got 
a  good  boat,  too.  Every  race  we  have, 
Diller's  there." 

"Where?'  asked  Diller,  looking  up 
with  a  puzzled  expression. 

"Oh,  somewhere,"  said  Berwin. 
"Only  yesterday  I  said  to  Wilder — " 

"Con-found  Wilder!"  yelled  little 
Stakes,  growing  red  with  sudden  rage 
and  pounding  the  table  fiercely. 
"Why  should  that  monster's  name  be 
mentioned  in  the  sanctity  of  the  sanc- 
tum of  this  respectable  Yacht  Club? 
Wilder's  a  robber,  a  thief,  a  con-man, 
a — a  rascal,  and  a — a — a — " 

"That's  all  right,"  interrupted 
Homperton.  "He's  an  upstairs  mem- 
ber, and  we've  got  his  ten  dollars." 


Getting  Acquainted  71 

"Well,  that's  something,"  admitted 
Stakes,  calming  down  somewhat. 
"It's  a  pleasure  to  rob  a  robber,  once 
in  awhile." 

"Sh— h!"  said  Geo.  B.,  mischiev- 
ously. "You  forget  that  both  Mr. 
Jarrod  and  I  are  present,  and  have 
also  been  separated  from  our  member- 
ship fees." 

"You  don't  mind,"  said  Stakes. 
"You're  good  fellows,  for  folks  that 
don't  own  sail-boats,  and  your  wives 
will  get  ten  dollars  worth  of  struggle 
up  stairs  before  the  season's  over. 
Eh?" 

"I  think  so,"  said  Jarrod. 

Later  in  the  evening  the  ferry-boat 
called  for  the  card  players,  but  broke 
her  engines  just  as  she  reached  the 
dock.  That  was  unfortunate,  for  she 
had  broken  her  engines  only  four 
times  that  day  and  this  was  her  last 
trip.  Wilder  was  with  her,  and  he 
promptly  hustled  all  the  people 
aboard,  collecting  the  fares  as  they 


72  tfamawaca  Folks 

crossed  the  gang-plank,  and  then, 
after  some  delay,  he  informed  his  pas- 
sengers in  a  despairing  voice  that  the 
blamed  thing  would  n't  go.  Some- 
thing was  wrong  with  the  engines,  but 
if  they  would  be  patient  he  would  tie 
up  to  the  dock  and  overhaul  the  ma- 
chinery and  get  things  in  shape  again. 
Of  course  they  all  trooped  off  to  the 
dock  again.  One  or  two  ventured  to 
suggest  a  return  of  their  fares;  but 
Wilder  had  gone  somewhere  for  a  lan- 
tern and  taken  the  pocketful  of  nick- 
els with  him.  Before  he  returned  his 
people  had  formed  a  merry  procession 
to  the  shore  back  of  the  club  house, 
where  they  struck  the  trolley-car 
tracks  and  tramped  the  half  mile  to 
Tamawaca  singing  and  joking  and 
thoroughly  enjoying  themselves. 
They  were  acquainted  with  Wilder's 
ferry-boat,  and  never  allowed  it  to 
make  them  unhappy. 

Mrs.  Jarrod  was  pleased  and  trium- 
phant.   She  had  won  the  third  prize — 


Getting  Acquainted  73 

a  nineteen  cent  handkerchief  embroid- 
ered with  the  initial  "S." — and  it  was 
indeed  fortunate  that  she  did  not 
overhear  the  remark  of  Mrs.  Sauters 
that  it  was  the  same  one  she  had 
dropped  at  the  last  yacht  club  party. 

Next  morning  Jarrod  went  down  to 
the  post  office  and  met  several  of  his 
fellow  cottagers.  They  were,  as  a 
class,  highly  respectable,  well-to-do 
and  good  natured  business  men,  who 
sought  in  this  delightful  nook  rest  and 
recreation  after  months  of  weary  toil 
in  their  offices,  factories,  mills  or 
mines.  They  talked  freely  of  the  ad- 
verse conditions  existing  in  Tama- 
waca,  of  their  abject  dependence  upon 
the  whims  of  Wilder  and  Easton,  of 
the  usurpation  by  these  men  of  the 
cottagers'  rights  and  privileges,  and 
ended  always  by  expressing  an  opin- 
ion that  the  law,  if  appealed  to,  would 
not  support  the  owners  of  Tamawaca 
in  their  autocratic  actions. 

"Wilder' s    all    right,"    said    one. 


74  tfamawaca  Folks 

''He's  a  good  fellow,  personally,  and 
mighty  accommodating.  But  he  owns 
only  a  one-third  interest,  so  what  can 
he  do  against  a  man  like  Easton,  who 
owns  two-thirds  and  refuses  to  spend 
a  nickel  to  keep  his  own  property  in 
repair?" 

"Easton  is  n't  so  bad,"  remarked 
another;  "but  he's  an  old  man,  and 
weak,  and  Wilder  makes  him  do  any- 
thing he  likes." 

"Why  don't  the  cottagers  organ- 
ize?" asked  Jarrod. 

"They  are  organized.  The  annual' 
meeting  is  to  be  held  next  Saturday 
night,"  was  the  reply.  "But  they 
never  do  anything  at  those  meetings 
except  bewail  their  condition  of 
slavery  and  mildly  denounce  Wilder 
and  Easton." 

"What  we  lack,"  said  a  grizzled  old 
fellow  with  piercing  black  eyes 
glinting  underneath  shaggy  brows,  "is 
a  leader;  an  organizer.  The  whole 
system  of  imposition  here  is  a  fester 


Getting  Acquainted  75 

that  is  gradually  coming  to  a  head. 
What  we  shall  require  presently  is  a 
clever  surgeon  with  a  sharp  lancet." 

As  the  speaker  walked  away  Jarrod 
looked  thoughtfully  after  him. 

"Who  is  that  man4?"  he  enquired. 

"Why,  that's  Colonel  Kerry.  Years 
ago  he  used  to  be  one  of  the  owners 
of  Tamawaca;  but  they  say  he  quar- 
relled with  the  methods  of  his  part- 
ners and  sold  out  to  them.  That  was 
before  either  Wilder  or  Easton 
bought  in;  but  the  Colonel  has  never 
mixed  in  public  affairs  since." 

"I  wonder  he  does  n't  use  the  lancet 
himself,"  said  Jarrod. 

"Oh,  he's  capable  enough,  I  assure 
you;  but  the  Colonel  is  n't  hunting 
trouble.  He  sticks  to  his  cottage  up 
on  the  hillside  and  minds  his  own 
business.  But  he's  a  shrewd  observer, 
and  no  one  knows  the  inside  history 
of  all  the  encroachments  upon  the 
rights  of  our  residents  during  the  last 


76  Tamawaca  Folks 

dozen  or  so  years  better  than  old  man 
Kerry." 

Jarrod  strolled  along  the  walks  foi 
an  hour  or  two,  noting  carefully  the 
conditions  of  neglect  everywhere  ap- 
parent. Nature  had  done  wonders  for 
Tamawaca;  man  had  done  little  but 
mar  nature,  if  we  except  the  many 
handsome  or  cosy  cottages  that  peeped 
enticingly  from  their  leafy  bowers  or 
stood  on  the  hills  overlooking  the  two 
lakes. 

Tamawaca  occupies  the  point  be- 
tween the  channel  and  Tamawaca 
Pool  to  the  north,  and  Lake  Michigan 
on  the  west,  where  a  sloping  height  is 
thickly  covered  with  a  noble  forest 
that  creeps  past  the  dwellings  down  to 
the  water's  edge.  In  the  hills  are  ro- 
mantic ravines,  flower-strewn  vales 
and  vine-covered  cliffs.  To  a  lover  of 
nature  nothing  could  be  more  ex- 
quisitely beautiful. 

Jarrod  tripped  and  stumbled  along 
the  walks.  The  boards  were  rotted 


Getting  Acquainted  77 

and  falling  apart.  In  places  the  sand 
had  drifted  over  and  covered  the  high- 
way completely.  An  air  of  neglect 
brooded  everywhere  in  the  public 
places,  and  where  a  bit  of  land  had 
originally  been  left  for  a  small  park 
the  ground  was  strewn  with  empty  tin 
cans,  bones,  papers  and  other  debris. 

It  grieved  him  to  note  this  condi- 
tion of  affairs.  A  little  well  directed 
energy  and  a  little  well  expended 
money  would  make  Tamawaca  blos- 
som like  a  rose ;  but  both  these  essen- 
tials seemed  lacking.  The  cottagers 
would  do  nothing  because  they  were 
told  the  streets  and  public  places  were 
not  theirs,  and  the  owners  would  do 
nothing  because  they  figured  they 
could  get  as  much  out  of  the  cottagers 
without  additional  investment.  The 
people  who  built  at  Tamawaca,  and 
lived  there  during  the  summer 
months,  were  perhaps  regarded  as  le- 
gitimate prey  by  those  who  directed 
their  fates  during  that  time.  Wilder 


78     .         tfamawaca  Folks 

and  Easton  supplied  them  with  every- 
thing. They  owned  the  electric  light 
plant  and  the  water  works.  Indeed, 
they  owned  and  controlled  everything 
that  the  cottagers  were  obliged  to 
have,  and  netted  a  fine  income  each 
year.  ^ 

All  this  was  a  challenge  to  Jarrod. 
The  fires  of  his  mental  energy  must  be 
fed,  even  when  he  was  "resting,"  and 
without  the  slightest  personal  antago- 
nism to  Wilder  and  Easton,  but  sim- 
ply because  he  saw  there  was  a  battle 
to  be  fought  for  the  cottagers,  whose 
ranks  he  had  joined,  his  logical  mind 
began  to  figure  out  ways  and  means 
to  force  the  fighting. 

A  day  or  two  later  the  lawyer  took 
the  electric  car  to  Kochton  and  read  a 
little  Michigan  law  in  the  office  of  a 
friendly  attorney.  The  result  ap- 
prised him  that  he  was  uncovering 
nothing  more  than  a  huge  game  of 
"bluff,"  which  had  been  played  so 
long  and  with  such  amazing  assurance 


Getting  Acquainted  79 

that  it  hatl  completely  cowed  its  vic- 
tims. 

Jarrod  came  home  smiling. 

"There's  nothing  like  a  summer  re- 
sort for  quieting  one's  nerves,"  he  told 
his  wife. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FOUND  OUT. 

When  Jim  called  to  enquire  after 
Susie  on  the  evening  of  his  adventure 
he  found  her  dressed  in  a  fluffy  white 
costume  and  sitting  demurely  upon 
the  porch  awaiting  him. 

Mr.  Carleton  came  out  to  thank  the 
boy  for  rescuing  his  little  guest,  and 
after  one  shrewd  glance  into  the  frank 
and  manly  face  he  retired  and  left  the 
young  folks  together,  satisfied  that 
Susie  had  made  no  undesirable  ac- 
quaintance. 

They  had  plenty  to  talk  about,  al- 
though this  was  practically  their  first 
meeting.  But  Susie  had  faithfully 
promised  her  girl  friends  to  bring  Jim 
over  to  the  hotel  for  the  dancing  that 
evening,  so  she  was  obliged,  although 
reluctantly,  to  curtail  their  pleasant 
chat  and  invite  him  to  escort  her  to  the 

dance. 

80 


Found  Out  8l 

Jim  was  tremendously  fond  of 
dancing,  so  he  accepted  with  alacrity. 
When  they  arrived  at  the  ball-room  of 
the  hotel,  where  cottagers  and  guests 
alike  were  welcomed  by  the  proprie- 
tor, they  found  Gladys  and  Mary, 
Betty  and  the  heiress  all  eagerly 
awaiting  them.  On  the  floor  were 
many  couples  of  girls  joyously  danc- 
ing together,  for  boys  of  any  sort  were 
scarce  indeed,  and  their  absence  could 
not  induce  the  girls  to  forego  the 
pleasures  of  the  waltz  and  two-step. 
Jim  promptly  began  to  participate  by 
dancing  with  Susie,  as  politeness  re- 
quired, although  she  was  too  short  in 
stature  for  the  big  fellow  and  dancing 
was  not  one  of  her  best  accomplish- 
ments. He  did  not  allow  her  to  guess 
they  were  an  awkward  couple,  how- 
ever, and  thanked  her  as  gratefully  as 
if  he  had  not  barely  escaped  being 
tripped  a  dozen  times. 

Next  he  led  out  the  heiress,  who  in 
addition  to  being  pretty  and  graceful 


82  ^amawaca  Folks 

was  an  especially  skillful  dancer.  My ! 
how  Jim  did  enjoy  that  two-step.  He 
danced  with  Betty  next,  and  with  the 
heiress  again;  then  with  Gladys  and 
once  more  with  the  heiress.  Mary's 
turn  came  afterward,  and  he  really 
ought  to  have  asked  Susie  once  more; 
but  by  the  time  he  had  taken  the  heir- 
ess out  for  one  final  whirl  the  dancing 
was  over  and  it  was  too  late. 

Clara  was  glowing  and  triumphant. 
She  had  fairly  monopolized  the  most 
desirable  young  man  in  Tamawaca  the 
whole  evening,  and  it  thrilled  her  with 
delight  to  notice  how  Mary  and 
Gladys  frowned  at  her  and  shrugged 
their  shapely  shoulders,  and  how 
saucily  Betty  stuck  up  her  nose  when 
she  found  she  could  not  look  indiffer- 
ent. But  Susie  only  smiled  cordially 
at  her  rival  and  told  Clara  she  danced 
as  prettily  as  any  girl  she  had  ever 
met. 

Then  Jim  took  them  all  across  to 
Wilder's  for  an  ice-cream  soda — the 


Found  Out  83 

only  entertainment  by  which  it  was 
possible  to  repay  the  girls  for  his  de- 
lightful evening;  and  if  he  shivered 
a  bit  when  he  paid  the  bill  no  one 
could  ever  have  suspected  it  from  his 
manner. 

"A  few  more  of  these  treats,"  he 
thought,  "will  curtail  my  vacation 
considerably.  I  must  be  careful,  or 
I'll  ruin  my  present  opportunity  to 
have  a  good  time." 

You  may  be  sure  the  heiress  urged 
him  to  call  the  next  day,  and  equally 
sure  that  he  accepted  the  invitation. 
Instantly  he  found  himself  popular 
with  all  the  girls,  for  every  unat- 
tached female  at  Tamawaca  wanted  to 
know  the  handsome  youth.  Presently 
he  received  so  many  invitations  to  go 
boating  and  bathing  and  auto-riding, 
and  for  luncheons,  picnics,  cards  and 
dancing  parties,  that  almost  every 
waking  moment  of  his  day  was  fully 
occupied. 

Throughout  this  social  revelry  the 


84  tfamawaca  Folks 

heiress  clung  to  her  conquest  like  grim 
death.  However  much  her  girl  friends 
might  accuse  her  of  "artful  selfishness 
and  selfish  artfulness"  she  was  clever 
enough  to  charm  the  young  man  by  her 
uniform  good  temper  and  her  frank 
delight  in  his  society.  Jim's  heart  was 
not  mush,  but  he  was  human  enough 
to  enjoy  a  mild  flirtation.  He  did  not 
neglect  other  girls  of  his  acquaintance 
entirely,  but  was  most  often  seen  in 
the  society  of  the  heiress ;  so  gradually 
the  others  came  to  acknowledge  her 
priority  and  expected  only  a  modest 
share  of  his  attention. 

To  Susie  Jim  remained  always 
friendly  and  considerate,  and  some- 
times during  that  giddy  first  week  of 
his  vacation  he  would  steal  away  to 
the  Carleton  porch  to  sit  down  for  a 
peaceful  hour  with  the  little  girl 
whose  life  he  had  saved.  During  these 
interviews  Susie  would  praise  Clara's 
beauty  and  accomplishments  until 
Jim  looked  at  her  curiously  and  his 


Found  Out  85 

face  grew  troubled.  He  would  admit 
that  the  heiress  was  "good  fun,"  but 
refrained  from  more  enthusiastic  com- 
ment. 

But  there  was  only  a  week  of  this 
hero-worship.  Then  the  sky  fell,  and 
Jim  passed  out  of  the  lime-light  into 
comparative  oblivion. 

Katie  Glaston  came  over  from  Chi- 
cago one  day,  and  as  she  knew  Gladys 
and  Mary  she  was  joyfully  welcomed 
to  the  select  circle  of  "the  bunch." 
And  of  course  one  of  her  first  experi- 
ences was  to  run  against  Jim  and 
Clara  on  the  board  walk.  They  were 
bound  for  a  boat  ride  and  the  girls 
halted  them  long  enough  to  graciously 
introduce  the  "hero"  to  Katie. 

She  acknowledged  the  introduction 
with  marked  coldness. 

"Glaston?"  said  Jim,  reminiscent- 
ly;  "any  relation  to  D.  B.  Glaston?" 

"He  is  my  father,  sir,"  said  the 
young  lady,  and  turned  her  back  to 
speak  with  Betty. 


86  tfamawaca  Folks 

Jim  raised  his  eyebrows  slightly, 
smiled  with  quiet  amusement,  and 
then  walked  on  beside  Clara,  who  had 
noticed  the  snub  and  was  angry  and 
indignant. 

"What  impudence !"  she  exclaimed, 
when  they  had  passed  out  of  earshot. 
"And  from  Katie  Glaston,  too !  Why, 
Jim,  her  father  is  nothing  more  than  a 
manager  in  a  department  store." 

"I  know,"  said  Jim,  nodding.  "He's 
my  chief.  I'm  in  his  department  at 
Marshall  Field's." 

Clara  shivered  and  stopped  short. 
Then  she  walked  on  more  slowly,  with 
a  red  face  and  eyes  staring  straight 
ahead. 

"Don't  joke,  Mr.  Ingram,"  she  re- 
monstrated. 

"Oh,  I'm  not  joking,"  rejoined  the 
young  fellow,  with  a  light  laugh. 
"Did  n't  you  know?  I  thought  I  had 
told  you  that  I  am  a  mere  clerk  in  a 
department  store." 

"I — Fm  afraid  one  of  my  terrible 


Found  Out  87 

headaches  is  coming  on,"  she  mur- 
mured, with  embarrassment.  "It  is  so 
hot  this  afternoon.  Would  you  mind 
taking  me  home,  Mr.  Ingram?" 

"Perhaps  it  would  be  better,"  he 
said,  quickly.  "The  sun  will  be  fierce 
on  the  water,  and  a  rest  may  save  you 
from  the  headache." 

They  turned  at  once  and  retraced 
their  steps.  At  the  corner  of  Misha- 
haken  Avenue  they  again  passed  Ka- 
tie and  her  group  of  friends.  The 
heiress  marched  stiffly  by,  but  could 
not  forbear  one  glance  toward  the 
group  and  caught  Betty's  scornful 
smile  as  a  consequence.  Poor  Clara's 
humiliation  was  so  great  that  she  near- 
ly sobbed  outright.  A  clerk !  A  mere 
clerk  in  Marshall  Field's.  And  she 
had  been  devoting  herself  to  the  fel- 
low for  a  whole  week ! 

Jim  was  not  blind,  and  needed  no 
explanation.  Silently  he  escorted  the 
girl  to  her  cottage,  the  amused  twinkle 
in  his  eye  growing  stronger  every  mo- 


88  T^amawaca  Folks 

ment  as  he  noted  her  indignation  and 
resentment  increasing.  At  her  porch 
she  dismissed  him  with  a  mumbled 
word  and  ran  in  to  indulge  in  a  good 
cry  as  a  safety  valve  to  her  vexation. 
And  the  discarded  youth  lightly  re- 
traced his  steps  to  the  hotel,  whistling 
reflectively  as  he  went — which  was 
ample  proof  that  he  did  not  realize 
how  serious  was  the  wicked  imposition 
he  had  practised. 

Of  course  Katie  had  informed  the 
other  girls  most  fully  of  the  fact  that 
young  Ingram  was  "a  cheap  clerk  in 
her  father's  department,"  and  al- 
though Gladys  merrily  declared  it 
would  be  an  added  inducement  for  her 
to  trade  at  the  store,  the  other  shrewd 
damsels  were  quick  to  see  that  such  an 
acquaintance  was  quite  undesirable. 

"We  really  have  no  protection  from 
such  adventurers  at  a  summer  resort," 
observed  Betty.  "I  understand  now 
why  he  picked  out  'the  heiress.'  Her 
supposed  fortune  interested  him." 


Found  Out  89 

"Supposed,  Betty?" 

"Well,  she  does  n't  display  any 
moving  pictures  of  it." 

"We  were  too  eager  to  get  acquaint- 
ed with  a  stranger,  just  because  men 
were  scarce,"  Mary  remarked,  a  little 
bitterly.  "This  ought  to  teach  us  a 
lesson,  girls." 

"Hush!    Here  he  comes." 

They  fell  silent,  every  pretty  back 
turned  to  the  walk,  and  Jim  swung  by 
without  encountering  a  look  or  a 
word. 

The  young  man  had  not  been  a 
clerk  for  more  than  a  year  without 
having  been  forced  to  realize  e'er 
now  that  his  position  debarred  him 
from  a  certain  class  of  social  recogni- 
tion. It  must  be  admitted  that  he 
had  purposely  concealed  his  occupa- 
tion while  on  this  vacation,  in  order 
to  enjoy  a  bit  of  feminine  society,  of 
which  he  was  as  wholesomely  fond  as 
every  boy  ought  to  be.  And,  being 
an  optimistic  young  fellow,  he  now 


go  ^amawaca  Folks 

congratulated  himself  upon  the  good 
times  he  had  managed  to  secure,  in- 
stead of  regretting  the  fact  that  he 
had  finally  been  "found  out." 

For  two  days  following  his  "dis- 
covery" he  swam  and  walked  and  had 
a  fine  time  in  his  own  company,  sav- 
ing himself  from  unnecessary  snubs 
by  assisting  his  former  girl  friends  to 
avoid  him.  Then,  one  afternoon  as 
he  passed  the  Carleton  cottage,  Susie 
Smith  ran  out  and  seized  him,  urging 
him  so  cordially  and  unaffectedly  to 
come  in  for  afternoon  tea  that  he 
could  not  well  refuse. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carleton  greeted 
their  guest  with  so  much  genuine 
kindness  that  the  lonely  young  fel- 
low felt  his  welcome  to  be  sincere,  so 
he  passed  the  next  two  hours  very  de- 
lightfully indeed.  Really,  he  had 
not  enjoyed  those  last  two  days.  His 
nature  craved  a  certain  amount  of  so- 
cial intercourse  with  nice  people,  and 


Found  Out  91 

he  could  not  be  entirely  happy  with- 
out it. 

But  it  would  be  wrong  to  deceive 
Susie  and  the  kindly  Carletons. 
When  he  left,  after  accepting  an  in- 
vitation to  an  informal  bridge  party 
arranged  for  that  evening,  Mr.  Carle- 
ton  walked  down  to  the  post-office 
with  him,  and  Jim  promptly  relieved 
himself  of  his  secret  on  the  way. 

But  the  old  gentleman  cut  short 
his  explanation. 

"I  know,  Ingram,"  he  said.  "Susie 
heard  the  story  from  some  of  her  girl 
friends,  and  it  has  pleased  us  to  know 
you  are  able  to  enjoy  a  brief  relaxa- 
tion from  your  tedious  and  confining 
work.  But  did  you  not  once  tell  me 
that  you  are  a  Cornell  man?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Could  n't  you  find  a  better  open- 
ing than  a  clerkship?" 

"Not  at  first,  Mr.  Carleton.  I 
was  n't  prepared  for  a  profession,  you 
see,  and  I  have  discovered  that  people 


92  ^amawaca  Folks 

are  suspicious  of  the  ability  of  boys 
fresh  from  college." 

"How  much  longer  does  your  vaca- 
tion last?" 

"Until  next  Monday.  Three  days 
more,  sir." 

"And  then  you  go  back  to  work4?" 
"Rested  and  refreshed,  sir." 
"Let  us  sit  down  a  moment."  They 
had  come  to  a  bench,  and  after  they 
were  seated  Jim  suddenly  resolved  to 
tell  the  kindly  old  gentleman  all  his 
story.  He  respected  Mr.  Carletori 
very  highly,  not  because  he  had 
achieved  enormous  financial  success 
but  because  that  success  had  not  de- 
stroyed his  generous  consideration  for 
others  less  fortunate.  So  he  related 
his  history  briefly  but  fully,  and 
when  he  had  finished  the  elder  man 
said: 

"I  think  you  have  been  inconsider- 
ate in  dealing  with  your  father,  my 
boy.  I  remember  to  have  met  him  on 
several  occasions,  and  he  impressed 


Found  Out  93 

me  as  being  an  excellent  business  man 
and  a  genial,  gpod-natured  fellow,  as 
well.  But  think  how  much  unhappi- 
ness  your  defection  must  have  caused 
him." 

For  once  Jim  was  crestfallen,  and 
seeing  that  his  words  had  made  an  im- 
pression upon  the  young  man  Mr. 
Carleton  forebore  further  reproof  and 
rose  to  resume  his  walk.  He  spoke 
pleasantly  of  other  matters,  however, 
and  when  they  parted  at  the  post-of- 
fice Jim  felt  that  the  old  gentleman 
was  still  his  friend. 

He  attended  the  card  party  that 
evening  and  had  a  good  time.  Tama- 
waca  society  is  made  up  of  many  lit- 
tle cliques,  as  indeed  is  society  every- 
where, certain  people  being  attracted 
to  one  another  through  congeniality 
or  former  association.  So  it  happened 
that  the  Carleton  clique  was  one 
somewhat  exclusive  and  removed 
from  those  to  which  Jim  had  formerly 
been  introduced,  and  he  met  with  no 


94  ^amawaca  Folks 

humiliating  slights.  Susie  treated 
him  exactly  as  she  had  before  Katie 
Glaston's  unfortunate  arrival,  and 
made  him  grateful  by  neither  over- 
doing her  cordiality  nor  referring  to 
his  humble  condition  in  life.  It  was 
a  friendly  atmosphere,  and  put  him 
entirely  at  his  ease. 

The  three  final  days  of  Jim's  vaca- 
tion were  as  merry  and  satisfactory  as 
the  first  week  had  been,  and  Susie's 
charming  personality  grew  upon  him 
steadily,  so  that  he  had  no  reason  to 
regret  the  companionship  of  Clara  or 
her  particular  group  of  friends. 

The  heiress,  for  her  part,  was 
amazed  that  Susie  did  not  promptly 
cut  "the  clerk's"  acquaintance. 
"But,"  she  remarked  to  Mary  and 
Betty,  "the  poor  thing  may  not  be 
much  herself,  and  is  glad  to  associate 
with  anything  masculine.  Some  folks, 
you  know,  dear,  have  no  occasion  to 
be  particular." 

Jim  had  intended  to  leave  on  Sun- 


Found  Out  95 

day's  boat  for  Chicago,  that  he  might 
be  at  work  on  Monday  morning.  But 
Saturday  afternoon  he  received  an 
astonishing  telegram  from  his  chief, 
Mr.  D.  B.  Glaston.  It  read:  "Your 
services  will  be  no  longer  required/' 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  MEETING. 

It  did  not  take  Jarrod  long  to  de- 
cide that  there  were  no  grounds  for 
Wilder5 s  claim  that  the  streets  and 
parks  at  Tamawaca  were  in  his  con- 
trol. On  the  contrary  they  belonged 
entirely  to  the  cottage  and  lot  owners, 
neither  Easton  nor  Wilder  having 
any  more  legal  rights  thereto  than  the 
most  insignificant  cottager. 

They  had  usurped  rights,  however, 
of  the  most  extraordinary  character. 
In  the  public  parks,  originally  re- 
served in  the  recorded  plats,  the  part- 
ners had  selected  the  best  building  lo- 
cations and  erected  cottages  upon 
them,  which  were  rented  at  good  fig- 
ures. They  had  also  sold  many  "lots" 
that  were  nothing  less  than  public 
property  to  innocent  or  ignorant  pur- 
chasers, who  had  in  some  instances 
built  expensive  houses  upon  them,  re- 
96 


The  Meeting  97 

lying  confidently  for  protection  upon 
the  guarantee  deeds  Easton  or  Wil- 
der had  given  them. 

This  wholesale  disregard  of  peo- 
ple's rights  had  been  going  on  for 
years — long  before  the  present  own- 
ers had  bought  Tamawaca.  From  his 
observations  Jarrod  concluded  that 
the  former  owners,  of  whom  there  had 
been  several  sets  or  combinations,  had 
all  come  to  a  realization  that  their 
vandalism  had  rendered  their  posi- 
tions unsafe,  for  which  reason  they 
had  presently  shifted  the  burden  to 
the  shoulders  of  their  successors,  who 
now  were  Easton  and  Wilder.  Per- 
haps these  two  men,  because  their  pre- 
decessors had  with  impunity  occupied 
public  lands,  had  become  more  care- 
less or  more  grasping  than  any  of  the 
others,  for  their  usurpations  were  on 
a  larger  scale.  Easton,  for  example, 
had  impudently  placed  a  cottage  di- 
rectly in  a  public  street,  disregarding 
all  rights  and  protests. 


g8  ^famawaca  Folks 

One  day,  during  his  rambles,  Jar- 
rod  came  upon  a  fine  cottage  perched 
high  on  the  hill  overlooking  the  bay. 
On  the  porch  was  seated  an  old  gent- 
leman whom  the  lawyer  recognized 
as  Colonel  Kerry. 

"Come  up  and  sit  down,"  called 
the  colonel,  hospitably. 

So  Jarrod  sat  down  to  rest. 

"I'm  glad  to  learn  you're  a  new 
resident,"  said  Kerry.  "You  have 
bought  Lake  View,  I  understand." 

"Yes,"  acknowledged  Jarrod. 
"There  was  nothing  to  rent,  so  I  had 
Co  buy  a  cottage  or  go  elsewhere." 

The  colonel  smiled. 

"Plenty  of  places  to  rent,"  he  ob- 
served. 

"Wilder  said  not." 

"He  may  have  said  so.  See  that  cot- 
tage across  the  way?  It's  a  very  nice 
place ;  belongs  to  Grant  of  St.  Louis ; 
has  been  for  rent  all  this  spring." 

"Oh.  Wilder  said  it  was  rented. 
I  tried  to  get  it,  you  know."  ^ 


^fhe  Meeting  99 

Again  the  colonel  smiled,  and  his 
smile  was  the  sardonic  kind  that  is 
sometimes  exasperating. 

"  Wilder  wanted  to  sell  Lake 
View,"  he  exclaimed;  "but  he's  been 
holding  the  place  for  seventeen  hund- 
red and  fifty,  which  is  more  than  it's 
worth.  Perhaps  you  whittled  the 
price  down  to  where  it  belonged." 

Jarrod  did  not  reply.  He  felt 
rather  uncomfortable  under  the  co- 
lonel's shrewd  glance. 

"Tamawaca's  a  beautiful  place," 
said  he,  glancing  over  the  wonderful 
scene  spread  out  before  him — a  scene 
with  few  rivals  in  America.  Framed 
by  the  foliage  of  the  near-by  trees, 
Tamawaca  Pool  lay  a  hundred  feet  be- 
low him,  its  silver  bosom  dotted  here 
and  there  with  sailing  craft,  launches, 
or  pudgy  ferry-boats  speeding  on  their 
way,  while  the  opposite  shore  was 
lined  with  pretty  cottages  nestled  in 
shady  groves. 

you  like  it,  sir,"  said  the 


ioo  ^famawaca  Folks 

colonel,  following  his  gaze.  "I'm  fond 
of  the  place  myself." 

"But  your  public  affairs  are  in  a 
terrible  condition,  Colonel  Kerry." 

"I  agree  with  you." 

"Why  don't  the  people  rise  up,  and 
demand  their  rights?"  enquired  Jar- 
rod,  curiously. 

"Simply  because  they  're  here  for 
rest  and  enjoyment,  and  not  to  get 
mixed  up  in  law-suits  and  conten- 
tions." 

"But  their  vested  rights  are  being 
disregarded." 

"To  be  sure.  That  is  no  secret,  sir. 
But  our  cottage  owners  are  mostly 
business  men  who  come  here  each  year 
for  two  or  three  months  of  rest  and 
relaxation,  and  conditions  which  they 
would  fight  bitterly  at  home  they  here 
tamely  submit  to,  rather  than  risk  in- 
volving their  vacations  in  turmoil 
and  trouble.  That's  human  nature, 
Mr.  Jarrod." 

"Perhaps  so,"  said  Jarrod,  doubt- 


Meeting  101 

fully.  To  him  a  fight  was  recrea- 
tion, but  others  might  feel  differently 
about  it. 

"And  it's  the  salvation  of  Easton 
and  Wilder,"  continued  the  colonel. 
"As  long  as  people  can  enjoy  the 
sweet,  fresh  air,  the  grateful  bathing, 
the  fishing  and  boating  and  other 
recreations,  they  won't  bother  about 
their  rights.  I  feel  that  way  myself. 
No  man  knows  better  than  I  how  our 
people  have  been  despoiled,  for  I've 
been  here  many  years  and  at  one  time 
owned  an  interest  in  the  place  myself. 
But  others  know  the  truth  as  well  as 
I  do,  and  if  my  neighbors  prefer  to 
submit,  surely  I  am  not  called  upon 
to  fight  their  battles  for  them." 

"Why  did  you  sell  out  your  inter- 
est?" asked  Jarrod. 

The  colonel  held  a  scrap  of  paper 
in  his  hands.  He  carefully  twisted 
it  between  his  fingers  into  a  neat 
spiral  before  he  replied. 

"There    are    two    ways    to    make 


102  tfamawaca  Folks 

money,"  said  he,  finally.  "I  favored 
one  way  and  my  partners  the  other. 
So  I  quit  the  business." 

Jarrod  sat  silent  for  a  time.  Then 
he  asked: 

"Does  your  Cottagers'  Association 
amount  to  anything?" 

"No." 

"Then  why  does  it  exist?" 

"To  save  Wilder  and  Easton  from 
the  danger  of  a  more  serious  organiza- 
tion. They  encourage  it.  Once  a  year 
the  cottagers  meet  and  talk  things 
over,  and  rail  at  their  oppressors  and 
become  very  indignant.  Then  they 
go  home  with  the  idea  they've  per- 
formed their  full  duty.  Those  meet- 
ings are  good  fun,  Mr.  Jarrod.  Wil- 
der always  attends  them  and  wel- 
comes every  cottager  as  cordially  as  if 
he  were  giving  a  party.  Then  he  sits 
in  a  front  seat  and  laughs  heartily  at 
the  rabid  attacks  upon  himself  and  his 
partner.  The  next  annual  meeting  is 
tomorrow  night.  I  advise  you  to  go." 


"The  Meeting  103 

"I  intend  to,"  said  Jarrod.  "By 
the  way,  how  do  Wilder  and  Easton 
agree  with  each  other?" 

"Not  at  all.  They  constantly  quar- 
rel over  one  thing  or  another.  Wilder 
resents  the  fact  that  old  man  Easton 
is  pocketing  two-thirds  of  the  profits, 
while  Easton  resents  Wilder's  habit 
of  laying  every  unpopular  act  to  his 
partner,  who  is  therefore  bitterly 
hated  while  Wilder  is  considered  by 
many  a  good  fellow.  Each  would  be 
glad  to  get  rid  of  the  other,  if  that 
w^re  possible,  but  neither  wants  to  be 
got  rid  of." 


"Outside  of  their  business  pecu- 
liarities/' continued  the  colonel,  "both 
these  men  possess  many  good  qual- 
ities. I  don't  want  to  give  you  a 
wrong  impression  of  them.  Wilder 
is  really  kind  and  accommodating.  It 
is  his  nature  to  want  to  please  people 
and  to  stand  well  in  popular  opinion. 
Easton  honestly  believes  that  he  is  a 


1O4  cfama^vaca  Folks 

Christian  gentleman,  arid  he  is  said  to 
be  a  good  father  and  husband.  But  in 
their  dealings  with  the  cottagers  these 
partners  have  contracted  a  sort  of 
moral  color-blindness;  they  can't  dis- 
tinguish their  own  rights  from  those 
of  others." 

"I  believe  I  understand  you.  Good 
morning,  Colonel." 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Jarrod." 

Saturday  evening  Jarrod  attended 
the  meeting.  It  was  held  in  a  big, 
shedlike  structure  in  the  woods  called 
the  " Auditorium,"  where  divine  ser- 
vices were  held  on  Sundays.  All 
Tamawaca  was  there,  for  the  men  took 
their  wives  to  enjoy  the  "fun."  It 
was  the  only  occasion  during  the 
whole  year  when  the  cottagers  got  to- 
gether, and  here  they  were  accustomed 
to  frankly  air  their  grievances  and 
then  go  home  and  forget  them. 

On  the  platform  sat  a  dignified, 
pleasant  faced  old  gentleman  who 
nodded  courteously  to  each  arrival. 


"The  Meeting  105 

At  the  secretary's  desk  was  a  little 
man  intently  perusing  a  newspaper. 

When  all  had  assembled  the  chair- 
man arose  and  rapped  gently  upon  the 
rostrum. 

'The  meeting  will  please  come  to 
order,"  he  said,  and  a  sudden  hush 
fell  upon  the  place. 

"I  believe  the  first  thing  in  order  is 
for  the  secretary  to  read  the  minutes 
of  the  last  meeting." 

The  secretary  glanced  over  his  pa- 
per. 

"I've  mislaid  'em  somewhere,"  he 
said;  "but  they  don't  amount  to  any- 
thing, anyhow." 

The  chairman  looked  reproachful 
when  the  meeting  joyously  applauded 
this  announcement. 

"Ahem!"  he  said.  "Are  there  any 
remarks?" 

A  tall,  thin  man  rose  from  the 
benches  and  cleared  his  throat.  In- 
stantly every  eye  was  upon  him. 
Someone  beside  Jarrod  laughed,  and 


io6  tfamawaca  Folks 

the  lawyer  turned  around  to  find 
Geoge  B.  Still  seated  there. 

"La — dies  and  gen — tie — men!" 
began  the  orator.  "We  are  gathered 
together  this  evening  to — ah — to 
meet  one  another.  The — er — reason 
we  are  so — ah — so  gathered  together 
in  one  meeting  is  to — er — consider 
why  we  should  be — er — should  be 
brought  in  contact  one  with  another 
for  the  public  welfare  of  Tamawaca 
this  gathering!" 

As  he  paused  impressively  Geo.  B. 
murmured:  "Gather  up  the  sands 
from  the  s — e — a  sho — o — r — e!" 

"I  take  it,"  continued  the  speaker, 
raising  his  voice  aggressively,  "that 
we  are  met  here  with  a  purpose ;  I  may 
say — er — an  object  in  here  gathering 
together.  It  is  my  earnest  wish,  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  that  this — er — pur- 
pose may  be  fulfilled !" 

He  sat  down  amid  a  round  of  ap- 
plause, mainly  bestowed  because  he 
sat  down.  But  he  held  himself  erect 


^ he  Meeting  107 

and  did  n't  lean  against  the  back  of 
the  bench  for  a  good  five  minutes. 

"I  call  for  the  reports  of  the  com- 
mittees," announced  the  chairman. 

A  man  arose  and  said : 

"The  committee  on  water  begs  to 
report  that  it  has  had  the  water  ana- 
lyzed by  a  competent  chemist  and 
found  the  said  water  perfectly  pure." 

Here  a  gentleman  with  a  ruddy 
face  jumped  up  and  asked: 

"Is  the  committee  referring  to  the 
bathing  water?" 

"I  refer  to  the  drinking  water,"  said 
the  committee. 

"Ah,"  ejaculated  the  red-faced 
man,  a  total  lack  of  interest  in  his 
tone. 

Little  Stakes  jumped  up. 

"I  want  to  know  why  the  electric 
lights  go  out  every  night  at  ten 
o'clock,"  he  shouted,  excitedly.  "I 
want  to  know  why  we  pay — " 

"Look  here — you're  out  of  order!" 
cried  the  chairman, 


io8  T^amawaca  Folks 

"So  are  the  lights!"  yelled  Stakes; 
but  he  sat  down. 

"I  call  for  the  report  of  the  com- 
mittee on  lights,"  continued  the  chair- 
man, in  deference  to  the  protest. 

There  was  an  intense  silence. 

"The  committee  on  lights  will 
please  report,"  said  the  chairman, 
looking  closely  at  Geo.  B.  Still. 

The  little  fat  man  slowly  arose. 

"Am  I  the  committee  on  lights?"  he 
enquired. 

"You  are,  sir." 

"Are  you  sure?" 

"Perfectly  sure,  Mr.  Still.  I  remem- 
ber Mr.  Bennett  nominated  you  and 
there  were  several  seconds." 

"Oh.  The  minutes  being  lost,  I 
supposed  the  seconds  were  lost,  too." 

"You  were  mistaken,  Mr.  Still." 

"Well,  the  committee  on  lights, 
Mr.  Chairman  and  ladies  and  gentle- 
men, finds  that  we  are  such  good  livers 
we  have  n't  the  gall  to  make  a  re- 


The  Meeting  109 

port."  And  Mr.  Still  subsided  slowly 
into  his  seat. 

"Just  like  a  lady's  gown,"  said  a 
wag,  jocosely:  "en  traile." 

"I'd  like  to  know,"  roared  a  man  on 
the  back  row  of  benches,  "if  the  street 
lights  burn  till  twelve  o'clock." 

"Can't  say,"  replied  Geo.  B.  "I 
don't  sit  up  to  watch  'em." 

"I  move  the  report  of  the  committee 
on  lights  and  livers  be  accepted,"  said 
the  wag. 

The  chairman  gravely  put  the  mo- 
tion and  it  carried. 

"How  about  the  treasurer's  re- 
port?" asked  some  one.  "Did  the 
secretary  mislay  that,  too?" 

The  secretary  glared  at  the  speaker. 
Then  he  laid  aside  his  newspaper, 
took  an  old  envelope  from  his  pocket, 
and  read  a  memorandum  evidently 
penciled  upon  the  back  of  it. 

"Total  receipts,"  said  he,  "one  dol- 
lar and  eighty-nine  cents.  Total  ex- 
penditures, two  cents.  Total  cash  bal- 


no  tfamawaca  Folks 

ance  on  hand,  one  dollar  and  eighty- 
seven  cents.  Respectfully  submit- 
ted/' 

"What  shall  we  do  with  the  re- 
port?" asked  the  chairman. 

"I  want  to  know  where  that  two 
cents  went  to,"  cried  Mr.  Calker,  the 
energetic  gentleman  on  the  back 
bench.  "I  demand  an  itemized  re- 
port!" 

The  secretary  and  treasurer  swore 
under  his  breath — or  almost  under  his 
breath,  while  the  audience  laughed. 

"The  two  cents  in  question,"  he 
shouted,  angrily,  "was  expended  for 
one  postage  stamp  issued  by  the 
United  States  of  Amelic£,  on  which 
there  was  no  rebate;  and  the  stamp 
was  thereafter  attached  to  a  letter  to 
MrC  Calker  asking  him  to  pay  up  his 
back  dues  to  this  Association — which 
letter  was  absolutely  disregarded." 

"Then  that*  expenditure  was  a  mis- 
appropriation of  public  funds,"  said 
Mr.  Calker,  in  a  satisfied  tone. 


tfhe  Meeting  1 1 1 

"Move  the  treasurer's  apology  be 
accepted,"  said  a  voice. 

"Move  we  adjourn,"  said  another 
voice. 

"Wait — wait!"  cried  the  chairman. 
"We  must  elect  our  officers  for  the 
coming  year." 

"Move  the  same  officers  be  con- 
tinued," said  the  last  speaker. 

"Second  the  emotion,"  said  the  tall 
man. 

It  was  carried,  unanimously  but 
without  emotion. 

Then  Jarrod  arose  to  his  feet,  to  the 
evident  surprise  of  the  assemblage. 

"Mr.  President  and  ladies  and 
gentlemen,"  he  began,  in  his  rich,  res- 
onant voice. 

The  president  bowed. 

"Mr.  —  er— er" 

"Jarrod." 

"Mr.  Jarrod  has  the  floor." 

"I  am  a  newcomer  here,"  said  Jar- 
rod,  "and  have  recently  bought  the 
cottage  known  as  'Lake  View/  With 


112  Tamawaca  Folks 

that  property  I  acquired  an  equity  in 
all  the  parks  and  highways  of  Tama- 
waca;  but  I  find  that  some  one  has 
usurped  portions  of  those  parks  and 
highways  and  erected  cottages  and 
other  buildings  upon  them.  Those 
buildings  must  be  removed,  and  the 
public  lands  be  restored  to  the  public. 
I  move  you  that  your  president  be  in- 
structed to  appoint  a  committee  of 
five  cottage  owners,  who  will  be  au- 
thorized to  take  any  necessary  legal 
steps  to  enforce  the  removal  of  all 
buildings  now  upon  public  grounds, 
and  the  restoration  of  all  public  lands 
illegally  sold  and  deeded  to  individ- 
uals." 

Had  a  bomb  been  exploded  in  their 
midst  the  cottagers  could  not  have 
been  more  astonished.  They  gaped  at 
Jarrod  in  open-mouthed  amazement, 
and  were  silent  as  bridge  players 
struggling  for  the  odd. 

"Second  the  emotion,"  suddenly 
yelled  Geo.  B. 


T 'he  Meeting  113 

The  chairman  wiped  his  brow  and 
looked  worried.  He  repeated  the  mo- 
tion and  asked  for  remarks.  No  one 
responded.  Then  he  put  the  motion 
to  vote,  and  the  people  shouted 
"Aye!"  with  an  enthusiasm  the  old 
Auditorium  had  never  heard  before. 
For  dimly  they  realized  that  at  last  a 
leader  had  come  among  them,  and  pro- 
posed to  do  the  thing  they  should  have 
done  themselves  years  before. 

"I  appoint  on  this  committee,"  said 
the  chairman,  "Mr.  Jarrod;  Colonel 
Kerry;  Judge  Toodles;  Mr.  Wright 
and  Mr.  Teekey." 

"Move  we  adjourn!"  cried  a  voice. 

This  time  the  motion  carried,  and 
the  meeting  adjourned. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

SOMETHING  DOING. 

Wilder  could  n't  sleep  that  night. 

''Something  queer  happened  at  the 
meeting,"  he  told  Nora.  "I  can't  un- 
derstand exactly  what  it  means,  just 
yet;  but  I'll  find  out  before  I  need  an- 
other shave." 

So  on  Sunday  afternoon  he  walked 
up  to  Lake  View  and  interviewed  Mr. 
Jarrod  as  follows  : 

"Tell  me,  dear  boy,  what's  the 
joke?  It  was  awfully  funny,  and  I 
laughed  as  much  as  anybody.  But 
what's  your  idea?  Just  to  guy  the  peo- 
ple?" 

"My  idea,"  said  Jarrod,  calmly,  "is 
to  sue  you  and  Easton  in  the  courts 
and  make  you  vacate  wherever  you've 
taken  possession  of  public  property." 

"What!  Sue  me!" 

"Exactly;  you  and  Easton." 
114 


Something  Doing  115 

Wilder's  merry  face  grew  thought- 
ful. 

"Do  you  mean  it?"  he  asked,  a  bit 
uneasily. 

"Certainly." 

Wilder  thought  again.  Then  he 
laughed. 

"Why,  it  would  ruin  old  Easton," 
he  remarked,  cheerfully;  "ruin  him  en- 
tirely. But  he  deserves  it.  I'd  like 
to  see  his  face  when  he  has  to  give  up ! 
It's  what  he's  always  been  afraid  of — 
that  people  would  some  day  wake  up 
and  make  it  hot  for  him." 

"How  about  yourself?"  asked  Jar- 
rod. 

"Oh,  it  would  ruin  me,  too,  if  you 
carried  out  the  plan,"  admitted  Wil- 
der. "But  you  won't  carry  it  out." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  you  can  do  better." 

"In  what  way?" 

"See  here,  Mr.  Jarrod,"  drawing  his 
chair  closer;  "I  take  it  we're  friends, 
and  can  talk  this  over  confidentially. 


n6  ^famawaca  Folks 

What  Tamawaca  needs  ain't  to  get 
back  the  few  lots  we've  built  on,  but 
to  improve  what  there  is  left.  We 
need  new  walks  and  driveways  and  a 
lot  of  public  improvements.  We  need 
to  clear  up  the  rubbish  and  make 
things  look  decent.  We  need  a  new 
hotel,  and  a  lot  of  other  things  to 
please  the  people  and  make  'em  hap- 
pier and  more  comfortable." 

"That's  true,"  said  Jarrod.  "But 
why,  as  one  of  the  owners  of  Maca- 
£awa,  have  n't  you  attended  to  these 
things?' 

"Me?  How  could  I?  I've  only  got  a 
third  interest,  and  the  man  don't  live 
that  can  wring  a  nickel  out  of  Easton 
for  public  improvements.  I've  quar- 
relled with  him  and  fought  with  him 
for  years  to  try  to  get  something  done ; 
but  he  just  won't.  Says  he  has  n't  got 
the  money;  and  perhaps  that's  true, 
for  we  lose  money  here  every  year." 

"Oh,  you  do,  eh?' 

"Of  course.     Everything  the  com- 


Something  Doing  117 

pany  owns  is  run  at  a  loss — electric 
light  plant,  water  works,  ferries,  ho- 
tel, boat  liveries  —  everything!  By 
hard  work  Nora  and  I  manage  to  make 
a  bare  living  from  our  little  mercan- 
tile enterprises  and  the  cottages  we 
own  and  rent — just  a  bare  living.  But 
the  company  property  is  a  dead  one. 
If  things  were  kept  up  better  we  might 
sell  some  more  lots,  and  get  more  peo- 
ple here,  and  so  make  a  little  money; 
but  Easton  don't  see  it  that  way." 

"How  does  he  see  it?" 

"Why,  he  just  wants  to  putter 
'round  and  lose  money.  I've  tried  to 
buy  him  up,  so  as  to  make  something 
of  the  place  myself;  but  he  won't  sell. 
That  is,  he  would  n't  sell  before  this. 
But  I  imagine  he  would  now." 

"Because  if  we  sue  him  he  will  lose 
it  all?" 

"You've  hit  the  nail  on  the  head! 
Listen,  dear  boy :  you  take  your  com- 
mittee to  Easton  tomorrow  and 
threaten  to  sue  him  if  he  won't  sell 


n8  tfamawaca  Folks 

out  for — say,  er — thirty  thousand  dol- 
lars. That's  all  the  property's  worth. 
He'll  sell,  or  my  name  ain't  Wilder. 
Get  an  option  to  purchase  within  thir- 
ty days." 

"And  then?" 

Wilder  turned  half  around  and 
gave  a  solemn  wink. 

"Then  if  the  cottagers  can't  raise 
the  money,  I'll  raise  it  for  'em!" 

"Good!"  exclaimed  Jarrod.  "I 
think  they'll  raise  it." 

"And  I  think  they  won't,"  returned 
Wilder,  smiling  sweetly.  "They're  a 
bunch  of  oysters.  Whenever  I  try  to 
raise  a  few  hundreds  by  subscription 
to  build  a  new  walk,  they  throw  me 
down." 

"Because  it  is  your  property,"  sug- 
gested Jarrod.  "You  and  Easton  owe 
a  duty  to  the  cottagers  to  keep  the 
walks  in  repair  at  your  own  expense." 

"Well,  it'll  all  be  different  if  we 
can  get  the  old  man  to  sell  out." 


Something  Doing  119 

"Will  you  assist  us?"  asked  the 
lawyer. 

"Sure  thing.  I'll  agree  to  take  ten 
thousand  for  my  third,  although  it 
cost  me  a  good  deal  more  years  ago. 
That'll  leave  twenty  thousand  for 
Easton's  share,  and  it's  all  he  deserves. 
But  never  mind  the  details.  You  just 
get  that  option  for  thirty  thousand, 
and  the  game's  won." 

"I'll  try,"  promised  Jarrod. 

Nora  saw  that  her  better  half  wore 
a  broad  smile  when  he  returned  to  her. 

"What's  the  result,  presh?"  she 
asked — the  endearing  term  being  a 
contraction  of  "precious." 

"The  result  has  n't  happened  yet," 
he  answered,  evasively;  "but  when  it 
does  my  dream  will  come  true,  little 
wife,  and  I'll  own  Tamawaca." 

"That's  nice,"  she  replied.  Then, 
as  he  turned  toward  the  door:  "Are 
you  going  out  again?" 

"Why,  I  promised  Nancy  Todd 
that  I'd  stay  with  her  father  while  she 


12O  ^amawaca  Folks 

went  to  Kochton  on  an  errand,"  he 
said,  resuming  his  usual  cheery  man- 
ner. "Old  Todd's  all  crippled  up 
with  rheumatism  and  helpless  as  an 
infant  in  arms.  Nancy  has  n't  any 
one  to  leave  him  with,  so  I  told  her  I'd 
look  after  the  old  man  myself." 

"I'm  glad  you  did,  presh,"  said  the 
little  woman,  earnestly.  "It'll  do 
Nancy  a  world  of  good  to  get  away 
from  him  for  a  time.  She's  all  used 
up  with  the  nursing  and  worry.  And 
while  you're  over  at  Todd's  I'll  drop 
in  and  see  poor  Mrs.  Jones,  who  is  sick 
in  bed  and  needs  cheering  up.  We'll 
both  be  back  by  supper-time,  I  guess." 

That  was  the  way  with  the  Wil- 
ders.  Sharks  in  business  and  the 
tenderest  and  sweetest  of  all  human- 
ity when  anyone  needed  a  helping 
hand. 

I  once  heard  an  irascible  old  cot- 
tager exclaim:  "Damn  the  Wilders' 
scheming  heads!"  And  then,  after  a 
pause:  "But  God  bless  their  kindly 


Something  Doing  121 

hearts!"  It  was  the  epitome  of  their 
characters,  expressed  in  a  nutshell. 
How  we  all  swore  at  them — yet  how 
we  loved  them ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DEVELOPING  THE   NEGATIVE. 

Jarrod  got  his  Committee  of  Five 
together  and  looked  them  over.  As 
might  be  expected  they  were  a  queer- 
ly  assorted  lot  and  promised  to  be  dif- 
ficult to  manage. 

The  promise  was  fulfilled  during 
the  several  meetings  of  the  committee 
that  were  quietly  held  on  back 
porches.  Colonel  Kerry  was  the  one 
tower  of  strength;  but  a  man  used  to 
managing  thousands  of  miners  and 
keeping  them  in  order  was  not  likely 
to  be  easily  managed  himself.  Kerry 
was  odd  as  Dick's  hat  band  and 
had  little  to  say  at  the  meetings. 
He  read  Jarrod's  purpose  clearly, 
and  endorsed  it;  but  the  old  fel- 
low could  n't  stand  the  arguments 
and  wandering  suggestions  of  his 
fellow  members  on  the  committee. 
While  he  listened  he  tore  a  fragment 

122 


Developing  the  Negative     123 

from  an  old  letter  or  newspaper 
and  rolled  it  with  infinite  care 
and  skill  into  the  inevitable  spiral, 
shaping  the  thing  between  his  fingers 
as  carefully  as  if  it  were  something 
precious.  But  if  anything  occurred  to 
annoy  him  he  promptly  destroyed  the 
spiral,  put  on  his  hat,  and  walked 
home  without  a  word.  Then  Jarrod 
had  to  go  after  him  and  urge  and  ex- 
plain until  Kerry  consented  to  come 
back  to  the  meeting. 

The  members  of  the  committee 
were  all  prominent  men.  If  Kerry 
could  have  cursed  them  freely  every- 
thing would  have  been  harmonious — 
as  far  as  he  was  concerned.  As  he 
could  n't  swear  his  only  recourse  was 
to  quit  and  go  home. 

The  author  fellow,  Mr.  Wright, 
was  another  hard  proposition.  He 
was  stubborn,  loud-mouthed  and  pig- 
headed, and  wanted  to  carry  every- 
thing with  a  high  hand,  the  way  they 
do  in  novels.  He  had  about  as  much 


124  tfamawaca  Folks 

diplomacy  as  a  cannon-ball,  and  his 
fellow  members  had  to  sit  on  him 
twice  a  minute  to  keep  him  from  spoil- 
ing everything.  Judge  Toodles  knew 
a  heap  of  law  but  was  sure  to  get 
tangled  in  its  intricacies,  and  when  he 
tried  to  unravel  himself  was  nearly  as 
lucid  and  logical  as  a  straw  in  a  cock- 
tail. Teekey  was  an  unknown  quan- 
tity. He  owned  a  fine  cottage  built 
on  public  property,  and  although  he 
had  originally  been  an  "innocent  pur- 
chaser" his  doubtful  title  so  worried 
him  that  he  was  accustomed  to  obtain 
from  Wilder  and  Easton  a  new  deed 
about  once  a  year,  and  each  deed  he 
filed  gave  him  a  little  more  public 
land.  He  was  reputed  a  wealthy  and 
eminently  respectable  gentleman, 
and  the  chances  of  his  fighting  on  the 
side  of  the  cottagers  and  jeopardizing 
his  own  property  to  assert  the  prin- 
ciples of  right  and  justice  were  con- 
sidered good — but  not  gilt-edged. 
With  this  ill-assorted  material  Jar- 


Developing  the  Negative     125 

rod  labored  until  he  molded  it  into 
shape.  For  it  must  be  admitted  that 
in  the  end  the  members  of  the  com- 
mittee stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  and 
did  their  full  duty  by  the  cottagers 
who  had  appointed  them.  By  these 
five  Tamawaca  was  redeemed  and  its 
incubi  unseated. 

Meantime  Jarrod  had  reluctantly 
indulged  in  several  interviews  with 
old  Easton.  This  man  was  a  most  pe- 
culiar character.  He  loved  to  sing 
hymns  and  made  an  excellent  exhor- 
tation at  any  religious  gathering.  In- 
deed, one  milk-fed  preacher  who  lived 
on  the  hill  was  openly  jealous  of  his 
evangelistic  abilities.  But  the  miserly 
instinct  was  predominant  in  Easton's 
nature  and,  as  Wilder  expressed  it,  he 
could  "squeeze  a  cent  till  it  hollered." 
It  was  this  characteristic  that  sub- 
verted all  the  good  in  his  nature  and 
made  him  universally  detested.  Wil- 
der, his  partner,  pursued  his  system 
of  graft  with  the  grace  and  cheeriness 


126  Tamawaca  Folks 

of  a  modern  Dick  Turpin.  Wilder 
was  open-handed  and  charitable,  gen- 
erous on  occasion,  always  hospitable, 
and  more  crafty  than  roguish.  Easton 
was  deliberate  and  calculating  in  his 
extortions  and,  like  the  ostrich  who 
hides  his  head  in  the  sand  to  escape 
observation,  fondly  imagined  that  no 
one  suspected  his  persistent  brigand- 
age. He  derived  a  fat  income  from 
the  necessities  of  the  cottagers  but 
pleaded  poverty  as  an  excuse  for  not 
doing  his  duty  by  them.  His  methods 
were  sly  and  stealthy  and  he  looked 
grieved  and  hurt  if  any  exasperated 
cottager  frankly  called  him  a  damned 
scoundrel. 

Jarrod  forced  himself  to  cultivate 
Eas ton's  society  in  order  to  study  the 
man,  for  the  elder  partner's  mild  blue 
eyes  and  innocent  expression  puzzled 
him  at  first.  Easton,  for  his  part,  con- 
sidered Jarrod  an  impertinent  med- 
dler, but  resolved  to  use  him  as  an  in- 


Developing  the  Negative     127 

strument  to  carry  out  a  pet  scheme  he 
had  for  dispossessing  Wilder. 

"With  Wilder' s  interest  out  of  the 
way,"  he  would  observe,  "everything 
would  be  well  at  lovely  Tamawaca. 
If  I  were  the  sole  proprietor  here  the 
cottagers  would  soon  find  out  how 
dearly  I  love  them.  Wilder  obstructs 
all  my  generous  plans  to  improve  con- 
ditions, and  I'd  like  to  buy  him  out." 

"Why  don't  you?"  enquired  Jar- 
rod. 

"He  won't  sell  to  me,"  was  the  re- 
ply. "But  perhaps  we  can  fool  him." 

"How?" 

"I'll  explain — in  confidence.  You 
buy  out  his  interest.  Tell  him  you'll 
make  it  very  uncomfortable  for  him 
if  he  refuses  to  sell.  See?  I'll  furnish 
the  money,  and  afterward  you  can 
turn  the  whole  thing  over  to  me." 
•  "Would  that  be  fair  and  honor- 
able?" asked  Jarrod,  gravely. 

"Would  I  propose  it,  otherwise?" 
returned  Easton,  as  if  surprised  at  the 


128  ^amawaca  Folks 

question.  "Mr.  Jarrod,  my  feet  are  in 
the  straight  and  narrow  way,  and  I 
will  not  diverge  from  the  path  of  rec- 
titude. But  if  in  that  path  appears  a 
snake,  I  am  surely  justified  in  scotch- 
ing it.  You  buy  out  Wilder,  as  I  said, 
and  then  I'll  buy  you  out.  Nothing 
dishonest  in  that — eh?" 

'Til  think  it  over,"  said  the  lawyer. 
"I  may  decide  to  buy  you  both  out." 

"Of  course.  As  a  blind.  But  only 
as  a  blind,  you  understand." 

"I  don't  understand  everything 
just  now,  Mr.  Easton.  I  must  give 
the  matter  some  careful  thought." 

During  several  similar  conversa- 
tions, however,  Jarrod  came  to  know 
his  man  intimately,  and  as  his  knowl- 
edge grew  his  respect  for  the  "Father 
of  Tamawaca"  decreased.  Neither 
Easton  nor  Wilder  believed  the  cot- 
tagers would  ever  assert  their  rights, 
and  therefore  each  was  scheming  des- 
perately to  oust  his  partner  and  get 
the  control  in  his  own  hands. 


Developing  the  Negative     129 

Finally  Jarrod  decided  the  time 
had  arrived  to  act.  He  got  together 
his  committee  of  five,  explained  to 
them  his  plans,  and  received  the  as- 
surance of  their  loyal  support.  Then, 
a  meeting  being  arranged,  they  called 
in  a  body  upon  Easton  at  his  office 
and  frankly  stated  that  the  partners 
must  sell  out  to  the  cottagers  all  their 
interests  at  Tamawaca  or  prepare  to 
stand  a  law  suit  for  the  recovery  of 
the  public  lands  illegally  sold  and  oc- 
cupied by  them. 

Perhaps  Easton  imagined  that  Jar- 
rod  had  taken  his  cue  and  was  acting 
upon  it.  He  tried  to  restrain  a  smile 
of  triumph  in  order  to  listen  gravely 
to  the  proposition. 

Wilder  sat  in  a  corner  and  hugged 
himself  gleefully.  The  old  man  was 
"up  against  it"  at  last,  and  Wilder 
was  responsible  for  forcing  him  to 
"face  the  music" — at  least  that  was 
Wilder's  belief. 

Jarrod,  in  behalf  of  the  cottagers, 


130  tfamawaca  Folks 

began  the  interview  by  calmly  stating 
their  case.  They  had  been  robbed  of 
certain  public  lands  that  belong  to 
them  in  legal  equity,  and  the  partners 
had  not  only  sold  these  lands  to  them- 
selves, individually,  and  built  cot- 
tages and  public  buildings  upon 
them,  but  had  conveyed  many  of  these 
lands  to  others,  giving  them  warranty 
deeds  in  lieu  of  clear  titles.  If  the 
matter  was  brought  to  the  attention  of 
the  courts  Easton  and  Wilder  would 
be  obliged  to  make  these  warrants 
good;  in  which  case,  so  extensive  had 
been  the  fraudulent  sales,  such  an  or- 
der from  the  court  would  involve  the 
partners  in  financial  ruin. 

However,  it  was  not  the  desire  of 
the  cottagers  to  ruin  their  oppressors. 
They  much  preferred  to  buy  out  their 
holdings  at  Tamawaca,  and  be  rid  of 
them  forever.  Therefore  they  offered 
thirty  thousand  dollars  for  the  prop- 
erty, assuming  in  addition  to  the  pur- 


Developing  the  Negative     131 

chase  price  some  six  or  eight  thou- 
sands of  standing  indebtenness. 

Jarrod  might  be  carying  out  "the 
blind,"  but  something  in  his  manner 
as  he  made  this  clear  and  uncontro- 
vertible  statement  disturbed  Easton's 
equanimity  and  rendered  him  suspi- 
cious that  the  lawyer  had  not  properly 
swallowed  the  bait  that  had  been 
dangled  before  him.  But  in  this  junc- 
ture he  could  think  of  no  way  to 
escape.  Whichever  way  he  looked  he 
encountered  the  cold  eyes  of  the  de- 
termined and  resentful  committee  of 
five,  and  to  delay  his  answer  until  he 
could  sound  Jarrod  was  impossible. 
Moreover,  Wilder,  who  acted  his  part 
admirably,  seemed  to  Easton  to  have 
tumbled  blindly  into  his  trap.  The 
junior  partner  declared  that  he  was 
willing  to  dispose  of  his  one-third  in- 
terest for  ten  thousand  dollars,  and 
the  fear  that  he  might  retract  this  of- 
fer led  Easton  to  close  with  the  prop- 
osition made  him  by  the  cottagers. 


132  ^famawaca  Folks 

At  the  worst  he  could  wiggle  out  of  it 
in  some  way,  he  believed;  so  the  one 
thing  to  do  was  to  nail  Wilder  on  the 
spot. 

The  final  result  of  this  serio-comic 
interview  was  that  Wilder  and  Eas- 
ton  both  signed  an  option  in  favor  of 
Jarrod  as  trustee  for  the  cottagers, 
agreeing  to  sell  the  entire  real  and 
personal  property  in  which  they  were 
jointly  interested  for  thirty  thousand 
dollars,  at  any  time  within  thirty  days 
following  that  date. 

When  the  option  was  signed  and  in 
his  pocket  Jarrod  felt  that  his  purpose 
was  accomplished.  His  committee  had 
redeemed  this  beautiful  summer  re- 
sort from  all  speculative  evils,  ensur- 
ing its  future  control  to  the  cottagers 
themselves,  whose  best  interests 
would  now  be  conserved. 

It  was  indeed  a  great  triumph,  and 
the  Committee  of  Five  solemn!}'  shook 
hands  with  one  another  and  went 


Developing  the  Negative     133 

home  to  tell  their  wives  and  neighbors 
of  their  success. 

Wilder,  in  the  seclusion  of  his  own 
home,  danced  a  jig  of  jubilation. 

"They've  got  the  option,"  he  said 
to  Nora,  "but  they've  got  no  money. 
I'll  furnish  the  money  to  take  up  the 
option — and  the  deed  is  done!" 

"Will  they  give  you  the  option?" 
asked  Nora. 

"Why  not?  Somebody's  got  to 
make  the  bluff  good,  and  I'm  the  only 
one  that  can  afford  to.  What  do  these 
folks  want  of  a  summer  resort?  They 
could  n't  run  it  properly  for  five  min- 
utes. And  Easton's  the  man  they 
hate,  because  he's  always  stood  in  the 
way  of  public  improvements.  Wil- 
der's  their  friend — eh? — and  they'll 
all  be  glad  when  he's  the  whole 
thing." 

Easton  was  a  bit  less  sanguine. 
"The  situation,"  he  told  his  better 
half,  "is  not  as  clear  as  I  wish  it  was. 
But  I've  never  yet  failed  to  get  my 


i,34  tfamawaca  Folks 

way  with  the  cottagers,  and  a  little 
diplomacy  ought  to  enable  me  to  win 
this  time.  My  only  fear  is  that  Jar- 
rod  may  not  be  honest." 


CHAPTER  X. 

JIM  GETS  A  RAISE. 

Jim  opened  the  fatal  telegram  in 
the  post-office,  and  his  face  must  have 
been  a  study;  for  Jarrod,  who  was  ob- 
serving it  from  a  distance,  became  in- 
terested and  at  once  approached  his 
young  friend. 

"No  bad  news,  I  hope,  Jim?' 

The  boy  laughed  and  held  out  the 
telegram. 

"Just  a  kick  in  the  dark,  Mr.  Jar- 
rod,  and  it  only  hurts  because  it  was 
so  unexpected.  I've  been  a  model 
clerk,  you  know,  and  now  that  I've 
just  spent  my  surplus  capital  on  a  va- 
cation, I'm  granted  another  and 
longer  one,  without  pay.  Well,"  with 
an  involuntary  sigh,  "there  are  other 
clerkships,  of  course,  and  I'll  probably 
get  one.  But  you've  no  idea,  sir,  how 
much  labor  it  takes  to  find  a  job  at 


136  T'amawaca  Folks 

twelve  a  week — especially  in  the  sum- 


mer season.' 


"Jim,"  said  Jarrod,  thoughtfully, 
"this  is  a  bit  of  good  luck,  if  judged 
from  my  own  selfish  viewpoint.  I  need 
some  one  very  badly,  to  help  me  clear 
up  a  lot  of  accumulated  work.  Would 
vou  mind  being  my  clerk  for  a  few 
weeks?" 

Jim's  face  was  beaming. 

"Do  you  really  mean  it,  Mr.  Jar- 
rod?  Can  I  be  of  use  to  you?" 

"Indeed  you  can,  my  boy.  You'll 
have  to  stay  at  Tamawaca,  but  as  a 
worker  instead  of  a  drone.  Can  you 
run  a  typewriter?" 

ccYes;  I  used  one  at  college  for  a 
couple  of  years,  and  got  to  be  fairly 
expert.  But  I  know  nothing  of  short- 
hand." 

"That  is  n't  necessary.  I  shall  re- 
quire your  services  every  forenoon, 
but  you  may  have  the  afternoons  to 
yourself.  I'll  give  you  twenty  dollars 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  137 

a  week  and  pay  your  board  at  the  ho- 
tel." 

"Is  n't  that  too  much,  Mr.  Jarrod?' 

"Not  for  the  work  you  must  do. 
Any  intelligent  man  would  cost  me 
that  much,  and  I  will  need  you  but  a 
couple  of  months — until  I  go  home." 

"Very  good,  sir.  I'll  do  my  best  to 
please  you." 

"Then  you're  my  secretary.  Come 
around  to  my  cottage  at  nine  o'clock 
Monday  morning." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Jarrod." 

That  evening  Jim  told  Susie  he 
would  not  have  to  bid  her  good-bye, 
as  they  had  expected,  for  he  had  been 
discharged  as  a  dry-goods  clerk  and 
employed  as  a  private  secretary,  which 
was  a  distinct  advance  in  his  fortunes. 

Susie  listened  gravely,  but  was  evi- 
dently much  pleased. 

"The  girls  told  me  yesterday,"  she 
said,  "that  Katie  had  written  her 
father  and  asked  him  to  discharge 
you,  because  you  had  been  impudent 


138  ^famawaca  Folks 

enough  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
exclusive  young  ladies  of  Tamawaca 
under  false  pretenses." 

"But  I  did  n't,  Susie!  I  met  them 
through  your  accident,  and  they  never 
asked  me  how  I  earned  a  living." 

"I  know;  but  they  forget  that.  They 
say  you  imposed  upon  them  by  assum- 
ing that  you  are  a  gentleman." 

Jim  laughed  merrily. 

"Where  do  you  draw  the  line, 
Susie,  between  a  gentleman  and — and 
— what's  the  other  thing? — an  unde- 
sirable acquaintance?" 

"Perhaps  so.  I  don't  draw  the  line, 
myself,  so  you  must  ask  the  girls  to  ex- 
plain. Perhaps,  now  that  you've  be- 
come the  private  secretary  of  a  famous 
lawyer,  you  will  be  cultivated  instead 
of  being  snubbed.  But  I'm  not  sure 
of  that." 

Jim  started  work  Monday  morning 
and  found  his  task  no  sinecure.  Jar- 
rod  had  a  lot  of  correspondence  to  an- 
swer and  a  good  many  papers  to  be 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  139 

copied.  Also  there  was  an  inventory 
to  be  made  of  the  property  covered  by 
the  option  given  by  Easton  and  Wil- 
der, and  their  books  to  be  gone  over. 
But  Jim  was  both  industrious  and  in- 
telligent, and  seemed  to  "fit  the  job" 
very  well  indeed. 

Katie  Glaston's  triumph  was  brief. 
She  had  actually  boosted  Jim  several 
pegs  on  the  road  to  fortune,  and  when 
the  girl  discovered  this  she  was  so  pro- 
voked that  she  left  Tamawaca  and 
went  to  visit  friends  at  Spring  Lake. 

The  other  girls  began  to  be  properly 
ashamed  of  themselves,  although  the 
heiress  refused  to  alter  her  opinion 
that  "a  poor  young  man  had  no  busi- 
ness at  a  summer  resort." 

Gladys  and  Betty  began  nodding 
to  Jim  as  he  passed  by,  and  although 
he  returned  the  salutations  with 
graceful  politeness  he  never  stopped 
or  attempted  to  resume  the  old 
friendly  relations.  He  had  grown 
wonderfully  fond  of  plain  little 


140  tfamaivaca  Folks 

Susie,  who  had  remained  his  faithful 
adherent,  and  her  society  seemed  just 
now  fully  sufficient  to  satisfy  all  his 
needs.  He  even  took  her  to  some  of 
the  dances,  and  found  her  a  much 
more  satisfactory  partner  than  on 
that  first  evening  when  he  met  her 
and  tested  her  accomplishments  as  a 
Terpsichore.  She  was  still  a  bit  awk- 
ward, but  the  little  speeches  they 
whispered  to  each  other  made  them 
forget  they  were  dancing  until  the 
music  stopped  and  reminded  them  of 
the  fact.  The  heiress  had  a  new  beau 
— a  bulky  blond  named  Neddie  Rop- 
er— who  was  reputed  a  social  lion  and 
a  railway  magnate,  although  it  after- 
ward transpired  he  worked  in  the 
Pullman  shops.  Therefore  Clara  pos- 
itively ignored  "that  Smith  girl  and 
her  dry-goods  clerk,"  who  ought  to 
have  felt  properly  humiliated,  but 
did  n't. 

Wilder  came  to  Jarrod  in  a  day  or 
so  and  said: 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  141 

"Well,  dear  boy,  I've  got  the  cold 
cash  in  hand  to  take  up  that  option; 
so  if  you'll  turn  it  over  to  me  I'll  set- 
tle the  matter  in  a  jiffy." 

"In  what  way?"  asked  Jarrod. 

"Why,  I'll  pay  Easton  his  twenty 
thousand  and  let  him  go.  And  then 
I'll  begin  an  era  of  public  improve- 
ments, and  try  to  induce  the  cottagers 
to  fix  things  up  a  bit." 

"I  can't  let  you  have  the  option," 
replied  Jarrod.  "It  was  given  to  me 
as  trustee  for  the  cottagers,  and  be- 
longs to  them." 

"Have  they  got  thirty  thousand 
dollars  to  take  it  up?' 

"No;  not  yet." 

"And  they  never  will  have  it,"  de- 
clared Wilder.  "Your  cottagers  are 
a  lot  of  corn-cobs,  and  you  could  n't 
squeeze  any  juice  out  of  them  with  a 
cider-press." 

"I'm  not  sure  of  that,"  returned 
Jarrod,  smiling.  "Anyhow,  the  op- 
tion is  theirs  to  accept  or  reject,  and 


142  T^amawaca  Folks 

I've  called  a  meeting  for  Saturday 
night  to  find  out  what  they  wish 
to  do." 

That  worried  Wilder  a  little  until 
he  reflected  that  the  cottagers'  meet- 
ings were  all  "hot  air  and  soap-bub- 
bles." They  could  n't  raise  thirty 
thousand  dollars  for  Tamawaca  in 
thirty  years,  and  sooner  or  later  the 
option  would  be  turned  over  to  him 
as  a  matter  of  course. 

Meantime  old  man  Easton  had 
been  quietly  observant  of  the  situa- 
tion, and  after  the  meeting  of  the  cot- 
tagers was  announced  his  suspicions 
that  Jarrod  was  "not  honest"  took 
definite  form  and  threw  him  into  a 
condition  bordering  upon  nervous 
prostration.  He  made  a  bee-line  for 
the  lawyer's  cottage,  and  found  Jar- 
rod  sunning  himself  on  the  front 
porch. 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Jarrod,"  he 
began,  cordially. 

Jarrod  nodded,  but  did  not  ask  his 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  143 

visitor  to  be  seated.  He  had  just  been 
going  through  the  books  of  the  part- 
ners and  had  discovered  things  that 
to  his  mind  rendered  social  inter- 
course with  a  man  like  Easton  impos- 
sible. 

"I've  called  around  to  get  that  op- 
tion," remarked  the  old  man,  seating 
himself  upon  the  porch  railing. 

"What  option?' 

"The  one  I  gave  you  so  as  to  fool 
Wilder.  You  know  what  I  mean," 
with  an  attempt  at  a  jocose  laugh 
which  ended  in  an  hysterical  gurgle. 

"Do  you  refer  to  the  option  you 
granted  to  me,  as  trustee  for  the  cot- 
tagers of  Tamawaca?"  asked  the  law- 
yer, coldly. 

"Why  —  why  —  that  was  only  a 
bluff,  you  know.  I  gave  you  the  op-> 
tion  so  as  to  buy  out  Wilder.  You 
know  that  well  enough." 

Jarrod  shook  his  head. 

"The   option  belongs   to  the  cot- 


144  tfamawaca  Folks 

tagers,"  he  said.  "You  can't  have  it, 
Mr.  Easton." 

"What!  Can't  have  the  option!" 
His  voice  expressed  both  astonish- 
ment and  reproach. 

"By  no  means." 

"I — I'm — afraid  I'm  going  to — to 
faint!"  gasped  Easton  in  a  wailing 
voice,  as  he  fanned  himself  with  his 
hat. 

"I  would  n't,"  remarked  the  law- 
yer. 

"But  I —  Oh,  this  is  terrible — ter- 
rible!" gasped  the  old  man,  piteously. 
"If  I  don't  get  that  option,  Mr. 
Jarrod,  I  shall  be  ruined — utterly 
ruined!" 

His  frail  body  swayed  from  side  to 
side,  and  with  eyes  half  shut  he 
watched  the  effect  of  his  misery  upon 
the  stern  faced  man  seated  before 
him. 

"Quite  likely,"  said  Jarrod,  yawn- 
ing. 

"Ruined — ruined!     At  my  age  to 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  145 

face  the  poor-house!  Oh,  my  poor 
family — oh, — oh, — oh !" 

He  leaned  backward,  threw  up  his 
arms  and  fell  over  the  rail  of  the 
porch  to  lie  motionless  on  the  soft 
sand  beneath. 

Jarrod  laughed.  After  a  minute  or 
so  of  silence  he  said  calmly: 

"There's  a  red  spider  crawling  up 
your  left  pant-leg." 

Easton  sat  up  and  with  a  nervous 
motion  shook  the  bottoms  of  his 
trousers.  Then  he  glanced  at  his  per- 
secutor, who  was  just  now  gazing  re- 
flectively over  the  smooth  waters  of 

j 

the  lake,  which  showed  between  the 
foliage  of  the  trees. 

"Sir,"  said  the  old  man,  in  a  voice 
trembling  with  emotion,  as  he  dusted 
the  sand  from  his  clothes  and  once 
more  mounted  the  steps  of  the  porch, 
"you  are  a  cold-blooded  brute!" 

"I  know,"  acknowledged  Jarrod. 
"But  I'm  not  as  bad  as  I  used  to  be. 
Ask  my  wife.  She'll  tell  you  I  have 


146  T^amawaca  Folks 

n't  knocked  her  down  and  stamped  on 
her  in  over  a  month." 

Easton  sighed.  He  must  change 
his  tactics,  evidently. 

"I  take  it,"  he  remarked,  in  a 
mournful  voice,  "that  this  is  a  busi- 
ness matter." 

"You  should  have  taken  it  that 
way  before,"  said  Jarrod. 

Easton  brightened. 

"Of  course,"  he  rejoined.  "How 
careless  of  me !  But  now,  I  trust,  we 
understand  each  other.  How  much, 
Mr.  Jarrod?" 

"Eh?" 

Easton  glanced  furtively  around 
to  assure  himself  there  were  no  listen- 
ers. 

"How  much  will  you  take  to  de- 
liver to  me  that  paper — the  option  I 
gave  you  the  other  day?" 

"Sir!" 

"That's  all  right.  Get  as  indignant 
as  you  like,  Mr.  Jarrod.  I  admire  you 
for  it.  But  just  state  your  figure  and 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  147 

I'll  write  you  a  check."  He  took  out 
a  check-book,  and  began  to  unscrew 
his  fountain-pen.  "Every  man  has 
his  price,  of  course;  but  I  know  you 
won't  rob  me,  Mr.  Jarrod.  You'll  be 
reasonable,  because  I'm  an  old  man 
and  can't  afford  to — " 

A  door  slammed  and  he  looked  up 
startled.  The  porch  was  empty  save 
for  his  own  astonished  person,  and 
after  waiting  five  or  ten  minutes  for 
the  lawyer  to  return  Easton  slowly 
slid  his  check-book  into  his  pocket  and 
tottered  home  with  feeble,  uncertain 
steps. 

After  that  interview  Jarrod  seemed 
different,  even  to  his  friends.  His 
jaw  was  set  and  his  eyes  had  a  steely 
gleam  in  them  that  boded  no  good  to 
any  who  might  interfere  with  his  pur- 
poses. Never  before,  even  in  those 
wild  days  when  he  strove  to  control 
the  Crosbys,  had  he  felt  so  humiliated 
and  humbled  in  his  own  estimation, 
and  his  one  desire  was  to  have  done 


148  Tatnawaca  Folks 

with  this  miserable  business  as  soon 
as  possible. 

The  cottagers'  meeting  was  a  sur- 
prise not  only  to  Wilder,  who  took 
pains  to  be  present  and  had  pains  be- 
cause of  it,  but  to  the  participants 
themselves.  Jarrod's  report  of  what 
had  been  accomplished  set  them  wild 
with  enthusiasm,  and  when  they  real- 
ized that  their  committee  had  faith- 
fully served  their  interests  and  found 
a  way  to  release  them  from  the  bond- 
age of  Easton  and  Wilder,  they 
promptly  awoke  from  their  customary 
lethargy  and  voted  to  take  up  the 
option.  Every  person  present  agreed 
to  subscribe  for  stock  in  a  new 
company  composed  exclusively  of 
cottagers,  which  would  thereafter 
own  and  control  Tamawaca  and  oper- 
ate the  public  utilities  without  profit 
and  for  the  benefit  of  the  community 
as  a  whole. 

"But,"  said  Wilder  to  Jarrod,  next 
day,  "you  can't  issue  stock  until  you 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  149 

have  the  property,  and  you  have  no 
way  to  raise  the  thirty  thousand  to 
get  the  property.  Why  not  turn  the 
option  over  to  me  without  any  more 
fooling?" 

"Wait,"  replied  the  lawyer,  smil- 
ing. He  did  not  resent  Wilder' s 
eagerness  to  get  the  option,  because 
he  was  frank  and  straightforward  in 
his  methods.  But  his  one  word  was 
so  far  from  encouraging  that  Wilder 
looked  at  him  and  shuddered  involun- 
tarily. Never  in  his  experience  had 
he  encountered  a  man  like  this,  who 
did  n't  know  when  he  was  beaten  and 
could  n't  be  cajoled  or  bulldozed. 
From  that  moment  his  fears  grew,  un- 
til he  was  forced  to  realize  that  in 
carrying  out  his  clever  scheme  to  oust 
his  partner  he  had  also  ousted  himself 
from  a  peculiarly  profitable  business 
enterprise. 

Wilder  was  right  in  his  statement 
that  it  had  always  been  impossible  to 
induce  the  cottagers  to  put  any  money 


150  tfamawaca  Folks 

into  public  improvements;  yet  that 
was  because  they  realized  they  were 
asked  to  pay  for  things  that  Easton 
and  Wilder  shouLd/have  done  at  their 
own  expense.  But  conditions  had 
now  changed.  Jarrod  could  have  had 
a  hundred  thousand  dollars  as  easily 
as  the  thirty  required  to  take  up  the 
option.  A  dozen  stood  ready  to  ad- 
vance the  money,  but  the  lawyer  se- 
lected three  of  the  most  public  spir- 
ited and  liberal  of  the  cottagers,  and 
made  them  popular  by  letting  them 
advance  ten  thousand  each.  The  op- 
tion was  taken  up,  because  neither 
Easton  nor  Wilder  could  find  a  way 
to  legally  withdraw  from  its  terms, 
and  the  transfer  was  consummated, 
all  the  property  being  formally  deed- 
ed to  the  newly  incorporated  Tama- 
waca  Association. 

Thus  ended  one  of  the  most  amus- 
ing financial  intrigues  on  record.  The 
amount  involved  was  insignificant; 
Tamawaca  itself  is  almost  unknown 


Jim  Gets  a  Raise  15 1 

in  the  great  world.  Yet  the  three- 
cornered  game  was  as  carefully 
planned  and  played  as  any  of  the 
campaigns  of  Napoleon,  and  it  was 
won  because  each  of  the  partners  con- 
spired against  the  other  and  was  final- 
ly content  to  be  a  loser  by  the  deal  as 
long  as  he  could  cause  annoyance  to 
his  enemy.  Never,  in  all  probability, 
could  the  cottagers  in  any  other  way 
have  been  able  to  secure  control  of 
the  beautiful  resort  where  they  had 
built  their  summer  homes. 

As  for  Jarrod,  he  hid  to  escape  con- 
gratulations that  were  showered  upon 
him  from  every  side,  and  in  the  se- 
clusion of  his  side  porch  breathed  a 
sigh  of  relief. 


CHAPTER  XI 

ROUGH-HOUSING. 

Jim  speedily  found  himself  upon 
friendly  terms  with  all  the  "resorters" 
at  Tamawaca.  He  worked  for  Jarrod 
mornings  and  in  the  afternoons  and 
evenings  enjoyed  himself  thoroughly. 
When  "Ragatta  Week"  arrived — the 
week  of  the  Yacht  Club  boat  races, 
when  the  four  yachtsmen  competed 
for  the  prizes  that  were  donated  by 
the  liberal  merchants  of  Kochton  and 
Grand  Rapids,  and  divided  the  spoils 
amicably — during  that  week  Jim 
helped  to  get  up  the  annual  "Vene- 
tian Evening,"  the  one  really  famous 
attraction  of  the  year. 

On  this  occasion  the  entire  bay  was 
enclosed  with  lines  of  gorgeous  Jap- 
anese lanterns  placed  in  artistic  de- 
signs along  the  shore.  The  Yacht 
Club,  the  hotels  at  Iroquois  Bay  and 
Tamacawa  and  all  the  buildings 
152 


Rough-Housing  153 

facing  the  bay  were  elaborately  dec- 
orated with  bunting  and  lanterns, 
while  the  sail-boats  anchored  upon  the 
mirror-like  surface  of  the  water  dis- 
played a  like  splendor.  Bands  played 
on  the  ferry-boats,  bonfires  on  the 
neighboring  heights  glared  and  twin- 
kled, many  launches  brilliant  with 
colored  lights  moved  slowly  over  the 
bay,  while  rockets  and  roman  candles 
sent  their  spluttering  displays  into 
the  dim  sky  overhead.  All  the  world 
was  there  to  see  the  sight  and  the  pop- 
corn and  peanut  men  reaped  a  harvest. 

It  has  been  seriously  asserted  that 
Venice  in  its  palmiest  days  has  never 
been  able  to  compete  with  Tamawaca 
on  "Venetian  Evening." 

During  the  delightful  August 
weather  social  functions  at  the  resort 
reached  their  acme  of  enjoyment  and 
followed  one  another  as  thickly  as  the 
fleeting  hours  would  permit.  In  some 
circles  these  affairs  were  conducted 
with  much  solemn  propriety;  but 


154  tfamawaca  Folks 

many  folks  who  suffered  under  the 
imperious  exactions  of  "good  form" 
during  the  rest  of  the  year  revolted 
from  its  tyranny  while  on  their  sum- 
mer vacations,  and  loved  to  be  merry 
and  informal.  They  were  gathered 
from  many  cities  of  the  South,  East, 
North  and  West,  and  here  thrown  to- 
gether in  a  motley  throng  whose  ante- 
cedents and  established  social  posi- 
tions at  home  it  would  be  both  diffi- 
cult and  useless  to  determine.  So 
certain  congenial  circles  were  formed 
with  the  prime  object  of  "having  a 
good  time,"  and  they  undoubtedly 
succeeded  in  their  aim. 

Jim,  who  before  he  quarrelled  with 
his  father  had  been  accustomed  to 
mingle  with  the  400  of  old  St.  Louis, 
was  greatly  amused  at  some  of  these 
entertainments,  many  of  which  he  at- 
tended with  demure  little  Susie. 

Rivers,  a  jolly  fellow  who  owned 
a  lake  front  cottage — one  of  the  titles 
to  distinction  at  Tamawaca — organ- 


Rough-Housing  155 

ized  a  "surprise  party"  on  George  B. 
Still  (another  lake-fronter)  one  eve- 
ning. A  band  of  some  twenty  people 
assembled  at  the  cottage  of  a  neigh- 
bor, all  carrying  baskets  laden  with 
frosted  bricks  in  place  of  cake,  beer- 
bottles  filled  with  clear  spring  water 
but  still  bearing  Budweiser  labels, 
mud-pies  with  nicely  browned  crusts, 
turnips  fried  to  resemble  Saratoga 
chips  and  other  preposterous  dona- 
tions of  a  similar  character. 

Then  they  stole  silently  to  George's 
cottage,  and  when  he  opened  the  door 
in  answer  to  their  timid  knock  bui-t 
into  a  sudden  flood  of  merriment  that 
never  subsided  until  after  midnight. 

The  Stills  were  as  pleased  as  could 
be,  but  no  one  paid  much  attention 
to  them.  Somebody  thumped  the 
piano  while  everybody  else  danced  a 
two-step  regardless  of  interfering  toes 
or  furniture. 

Little  Drybug,  a  dapper  man  who 
weighed  about  seventy-six  pounds 


156  cfama^vaca  Folks 

but  didn't  look  so  heavy,  cavorted 
with  blushing  Mrs.  Still  who  weighed 
something  less  than  three  hundred — 
but  not  much — and  nearly  committed 
suicide  in  the  attempt.  Commodore 
Diller  danced  with  Grandma  Jones, 
a  rosy-cheeked  antiquity  who  blushed 
as  charmingly  as  a  girl  of  sixteen,  and 
the  general  mix-up  was  about  as 
laughable  as  could  well  be. 

In  the  breathless  pause  that  pres- 
ently ensued  as  a  matter  of  course, 
Mr.  Idowno,  a  solemn  faced  gentle- 
man who  had  attended  the  party  with 
his  smiling,  chubby  wife  but  could  not 
dance  a  single  caper,  protested  in  an 
audible  tone  that  it  was  time  he  must 
be  going.  "I  have  to  work  for  a  liv- 
ing, you  know,"  explained  this  indi- 
vidual, who  was  director  in  several 
banks  and  controlled  a  number  of 
business  enterprises  and  could  not  get 
them  off  his  mind. 

But  the  company  laughed  him  to 
scorn  ancl  decided  to  play  "five  hun- 


Rough-Housing  157 

dred"  for  a  series  of  prizes  that  had 
not  been  provided  in  advance,  and 
were  therefore  invisible. 

So  the  self-invited  guests  rigged  up 
card  tables  and  chose  partners  and 
fought  and  quarreled  for  points  until 
Mrs.  Rivers  rung  a  gong  and  invited 
all  to  supper. 

Then  they  jumped  up  and  trooped 
into  an  adjoining  room,  where  the 
frosted  bricks  and  mud  pies  had  been 
spread  for  a  banquet;  and  although 
George  B.  accepted  his  donations 
with  good  humor  the  guests  began  to 
wonder  if  the  joke  was  not  on  them- 
selves, after  all,  since  their  jolly  exer- 
tions had  created  a  demand  in  their 
interiors  for  real  food. 

"Well,  I  must  be  going,"  said  the 
solemn  Idowno.  "I  have  to  work 
for- 

"This  way,  please!"  called  Mrs. 
Still,  cheerily,  and  threw  open  anoth- 
er door,  disclosing  an  enticing  array 


158  Tamawaca  Folks 

of  provender  that  caused  a  stampede 
in  that  direction. 

"How  on  earth  did  you  happen  to 
have  all  this  on  hand?"  Susie  en- 
quired of  Mrs.  Still,  as  she  and  Jim 
squeezed  themselves  into  a  corner. 
"Did  n't  Mrs.  Rivers  keep  her  sur- 
prise party  a  secret?" 

"Of  course,  as  secret  as  she  can  keep 
anything,"  answered  the  laughing 
hostess;  "but  I  had  an  intuition 
there' d  be  a  lot  of  hungry  folks  here 
tonight,  so  we've  been  busy  all  day 
getting  ready  for  them." 

After  the  supper,  which  consumed 
two  hours  in  being  consumed,  Mr. 
Idowno  once  more  claimed  he  must  be 
going;  but  the  guests  rose  up  and 
loudly  demanded  the  prizes  they  had 
won  at  cards.  From  the  size  of  the 
hubbub  it  appeared  that  nearly  every 
one  present  was  entitled  to  a  prize. 

For  once  the  Stills  were  non- 
plussed. They  really  had  n't  thought 
of  "prizes"  for  their  surprise  party, 


Rough-Housing  159 

and  hesitated  what  to  say  or  do.  But 
their  guests  settled  the  matter  in  their 
own  way. 

Mr.  Iward  took  possession  of  a  Jap- 
anese screen;  Mrs.  Rivers  grabbed  a 
mantel  ornament;  Mrs.  Jarrod  seized 
upon  an  antique  candlestick  she  had 
long  coveted  and  plump  Mrs.  Diller 
grabbed  a  picture  off  the  wall.  Mrs. 
Purspyre  found  a  Bible  and  appropri- 
ated it  because  she  had  always  had  a 
curiosity  to  read  it.  Mr.  Bowsir 
espied  a  paper-cutter  of  ivory,  which 
he  secured  after  a  struggle  with 
George  B.,  who  wanted  it  himself, 
while  Katherine  Pance  swiped  an  em- 
broidered cover  from  the  center-table 
and  Mr.  Connover  took  the  table  it- 
self. 

And  so,  amid  screams  and  laughter, 
the  pretty  room  was  despoiled  of  its 
treasures,  for  the  Stills  were  greatly 
outnumbered  by  their  guests  and  pow- 
erless to  protect  their  property. 

As    the    heavily    laden    company 


160  T^amawaca  Folks 

trooped  away  down  the  walk,  singing 
as  blithely  as  the  forty  thieves  might 
have  done,  Mr.  Wright,  the  author- 
man,  who  had  really  won  a  prize  but 
found  the  place  stripped  when  he  re- 
turned from  the  dining-room  (where 
he  had  been  to  hunt  for  one  last  sand- 
wich) gave  a  sigh  and  lifted  the  front 
door  from  its  hinges,  carrying  it  home 
with  many  protests  that  "it  was  just 
about  as  useful  as  any  prize  he  had 
won  that  year." 

And  so  ended  the  "surprise  party," 
but  little  Minnie  Still  said  confiden- 
tially to  her  chum  next  day : 

"We  had  a  rough-house  at  our  cot- 
tage last  night,  and  they  behaved  just 
dreadful!  Why,  if  we  young  folks 
ever  acted  the  way  those  old  married 
people  did,  my  mother  would  send  me 
back  to  Quincy  in  double-quick  time." 

Such  commentaries  by  children 
upon  their  elders  are  doubly  sad  when 
they  happen  to  be  true. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MRS.  HERRINGFORD'S  PARTY. 

"Jim,"  said  Colonel  Kerry,  meet- 
ing the  young  man  at  the  post-office, 
"that  cottage  of  Grant's,  up  near 
mine,  has  been  rented  at  last.  The* 
parties  took  possession  today." 

"Who  got  it,  Colonel?" 

"One  of  the  big  millionaires  of  St. 
Louis,  they  say;  and  he's  arrived  with 
his  wife  and  daughters  and  a  whole 
gang  of  servants.  Jarrod  says  he's  a 
capital  fellow,  but  did  n't  mention 
the  size  of  the  capital.  Money  won't 
buy  health,  Jim,  and  the  poor  Midas 
is  an  invalid  and  came  here  to  try  tq 
brace  up." 

Jim  was  white  and  staring. 

"You — you  did  n't  hear  the  name, 
Colonel?" 

"Why,  yes;  it's  Everton." 

The  young  man  gave  a  low,  solemn 
whistle  and  walked  away  with  a 
161 


162  T'amawaca  Folks 

guilty  and  disturbed  demeanor,  while 
the  colonel  favored  a  group  that  had 
overheard  his  remarks  with  further 
particulars  concerning  the  new  ar- 
rival. 

There  was  considerable  excitement 
in  quiet  Tamawaca  over  the  advent 
of  the  Evertons;  for  while  the  resort 
boasted  several  families  of  great 
wealth,  none  was  so  marvelously  rich 
or  of  such  conspicuous  note  as  the  well 
known  patent  medicine  man  who  had 
won  mountains  of  gold  by  the  sale  of 
his  remedies.  And  when  it  was  un- 
derstood his  own  poor  health  had 
brought  him  to  this  place  to  seek  re- 
lief the  folks  were  really  shocked,  and 
George  B.  Still  declared  he  would 
send  the  poor  man  a  bottle  of  "Ever- 
ton's  Magic  Healer'5  and  ask  him  to 
read  the  printed  testimonials.  The 
affair  was  a  nine  days'  gossip  because 
the  people  had  for  the  time  exhausted 
the  subject  of  Easton  &  Wilder  and 
craved  excitement. 


Mrs.  Herring  ford's  Party     163 

When  Jim  went  to  Susie  with  a 
hanging  head  and  told  her  his  father 
had  come  to  the  very  place  where  he 
had  himself  taken  refuge,  the  girl 
counselled  with  him  seriously,  and  ad- 
vised him  not  to  run  away  but  rather 
to  meet  his  family  frankly  and  if  pos- 
sible resume  friendly  relations  with 
them. 

"The  only  thing  that  Mr.  Carle  ton 
urges  against  our  engagement,"  she 
said,  "is  that  you  have  not  treated 
your  parents  fairly  in  this  matter. 
And  your  poor  father  is  ill,  they  say, 
and  must  be  unhappy  over  the  deser- 
tion of  his  only  son.  How  do  you 
feel  about  it,  Jim"?" 

"Why,  I  have  n't  looked  at  the 
matter  in  that  light  before,  Susie/'  he 
replied.  "But  I'll  think  it  over  and 
try  to  do  what  is  right.  What  do  we 
do  this  evening?" 

"We're  invited  to  Mrs.  Herring- 
ford's  party,  and  I'm  curious  to  go 
and  see  what  it  will  be  like.  The  old 


164  T^amawaca  Folks 

lady  is  the  mother  of  Mrs.  Drybug — 
you  remember  the  Drybugs,  don't 
you?  Both  the  little  dears  weigh 
about  as  much  as  a  healthy  schoolboy, 
and  they  remind  one  of  ants  because 
they're  so  busy  and  you  have  to  be 
careful  not  to  step  on  them." 

"I  remember.  If  Mrs.  Herringford 
is  the  mother  of  the  Drybugs  she 
ought  to  be  able  to  do  stunts." 

"Well,  let's  go." 

So  they  went,  as  curious  as  every 
one  else  who  had  been  invited,  and 
were  glad  they  did  not  miss  the  show. 

The  oldest  inhabitant  could  not  re- 
member when  Mrs.  Herringford  had 
ever  entertained  before.  At  the  Yacht 
Club  card  parties  she  was  always  in  evi- 
dence, and  the  little  lady  played  such 
an  earnest,  strenuous  game  that  the 
men  rather  avoided  being  her  partners. 
Once  George  B.  Still,  being  caught, 
"bid"  with  such  desperate  reckless- 
ness that  he  set  back  poor  Mrs.  Her- 
ringford far  enough  to  ruin  her  game, 


Mrs.  Herring  ford's  Party     165 

and  she  went  home  broken-hearted. 
But  usually  she  glared  at  her  partner 
so  fiercely  that  he  played  with  un- 
usual care  and  made  the  game  a  busi- 
ness and  not  a  diversion.  Every  one 
liked  her,  when  she  was  at  some  other 
card  table. 

Tonight  the  lady  wished  to  repay 
all  her  social  obligations  in  a  bunch 
by  giving  a  party  at  her  cottage.  Be- 
ing rather  nervous,  she  asked  Mrs. 
McCoy  and  the  Widow  Marsh  to  as- 
sist her  to  receive.  Mrs.  McCoy  was 
a  sweet  little  woman  who  was  every 
body's  friend  and  therefore  could  re- 
fuse Mrs.  Herringford  nothing  that 
might  please  her,  while  the  Widow 
Marsh  was  possessed  of  such  grace 
and  beauty  that  she  charmed  every 
male  heart  in  spite  of  her  modest 
ways  and  made  the  women  with  hus- 
bands nervous  whenever  she  was 
around. 

With  two  such  drawing  cards  the 
Herringford  party  could  scarcely  fail 


166  tfamawaca  Folks 

of  success,  yet  as  the  guests  slowly  ar- 
rived the  atmosphere  of  gloom  that 
hung  over  the  place  was  hard  to  dissi- 
pate. Mr.  Idowno,  one  of  the  first 
comers,  began  to  look  at  his  watch  and 
suggest  that  it  was  time  to  go,  as  "he 
had  to  work  for  a  living;"  but  the 
Widow  Marsh  suspected  his  intention 
and  made  him  forget  his  worries  by 
sitting  at  his  side  and  telling  him  how 
young  he  was  growing. 

The  invited  guests  were  so  slow  to 
arrive  that  some  never  came  at  all, 
but  bye  and  bye  there  were  enough 
to  start  the  card  playing,  and  then  the 
hostess  made  them  a  clever  speech. 

"I  have  n't  any  prizes  for  the  win- 
ners," she  announced,  "because  I 
want  a  very  harmonious  gathering 
here  tonight  and  prizes  always  result 
in  disappointment,  malice  and  envy. 
Besides,  they're  getting  expensive. 
But  I  hope  you'll  all  play  in  a  friend- 
ly spirit  for  the  honor  of  winning,  and 
that  you'll  have  a  real  good  time." 


Mrs.  Herring  ford's  Party     167 

Instead  of  applauding  this  speech, 
Mr.  Idowno  looked  at  his  watch,  but 
his  wife  pinched  him  and  made  him 
put  it  away  and  take  a  seat  at  one  of 
the  card  tables. 

It  is  impossible  to  repress  Tama- 
waca  folks  when  they  are  out  for  a 
good  time — which  is  the  only  reason 
they  are  ever  out.  "These  people," 
whispered  Lucy  Kerry  to  her  neigh- 
bor, "would  enjoy  themselves  at  a 
funeral."  "True,"  was  the  reply; 
"especially  if  they  could  pick  the 
corpse." 

To  relieve  any  chill  in  the  tempera- 
ture they  at  once  began  to  laugh  and 
joke  with  one  another,  while  Mrs. 
McCoy  and  the  Widow  Marsh  flut- 
tered around  to  see  that  all  were  prop- 
erly paired  and  the  cards  were  right- 
ly sorted.  The  game  began  with  as 
much  energy  as  a  lack  of  prizes  would 
warrant,  but  no  effort  could  make  it 
a  whirlwind  of  joy,  so  presently  they 
gave  up  the  cards  and  played  blind- 


168  Tamawaca  Folks 

man's  bluff  and  puss-in-the-corner. 
Mrs.  Herringford  was  worried  to 
death  lest  some  one  should  catch  her 
and  kiss  her,  but  no  man  was  so  un- 
gentlemanly. 

Although  these  youthful  frolics 
served  to  while  away  the  front  of  the 
evening,  there  was  no  temptation  to 
linger  very  late,  so  when  Mr.  Stakes 
suggested  that  they  all  "go  home  and 
have  a  good  time"  the  party  was  on 
the  verge  of  breaking  up. 

"Wait — wait!"  cried  Mrs.  Her- 
ringford. "We're  going  to  have  re- 
freshments." 

Being  cowed  by  wonder  and  made 
curious  by  the  unexpected  revelation, 
they  waited. 

The  hostess  disappeared  into  the 
kitchen. 

"It  hardly  seems  possible,"  mur- 
mured Mrs.  Purspyre,  "but  truth  is 
stranger  than  Mrs.  Herringford.  We 
shall  see  what  we  shall  see.  Her  gro- 
cery bill  was  twenty-eight  cents  last 


Mrs.  Herring  ford's  Party     169 

week,  and  she  is  said  to  have  half  a 
million  in  government  f our-per-cents. 
Perhaps  she's  going  to  open  her  heart, 
to  prove  she's  alive  and  not  a  resusci- 
tated Egyptian  mummy,  as  Mr. 
Wright  claims  she  is.  Let's  wait." 

They  waited,  and  waited  so  long 
that  the  Widow  Marsh  and  Mrs.  Mc- 
Coy had  hard  work  to  prevent  a  stam- 
pede through  the  front  door.  But 
finally  the  hostess  appeared,  bearing 
two  plates  and  radiant  with  the  joy 
of  generous  hospitality. 

"Run,  Lucy  and  Grace  and  Ada 
and  Mary,"  she  called,  "and  help  me 
bring  in  the  plates.  The  refreshments 
are  all  ready!" 

They  ran  and  brought  in  the  plates. 
Upon  each  one  was  placed  with 
dainty  care  one  soda  cracker,  one 
withered  ginger-snap  and  one  puffy 
cracknel.  The  guests  took  the  "re- 
freshments" in  dismal  silence  and  be- 
ban  to  gnaw. 

"But  there's  no  plate  for  you,  my 


i  jo  ^famawaca  Folks 

dear,"  said  Mrs.  McCoy  to  the  host- 
ess, in  a  solicitous  tone. 

"Never  mind,"  returned  the  little 
lady,  cheerfully;  "I  ain't  hungry,  so 
I  guess  I  can  wait  till  breakfast." 

Mrs.  Purspyre  choked  on  the  puffy 
cracknel  and  was  saved  to  the  world 
by  a  glass  of  water.  Mrs.  Herring- 
ford  thoughtfully  brought  water  for 
them  all. 

"You'll  find  it  nice  and  fresh,"  she 
said,  with  pardonable  pride,  as  she 
poured  the  precious  fluid  with  a  lavish 
hand. 

"Then  it's  different  from  this  gin- 
ger-snap," remarked  Mr.  Wogie, 
nursing  a  jarred  tooth. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen!"  an- 
nounced Mr.  Sherlock,  getting  upon 
his  feet  and  waving  one  arm.  "Let 
us  thank  Mrs.  Herringford  for  her 
kind  entertainment,  which  will  be  a 
red  letter  event  in  our  calendar  of  glo- 
rious memories.  This  dissipation  is  un- 
usual with  us  all,  but  I  hope  in  no  case 


Mrs.  Herring  ford's  Party     171 

will  it  prove  fatal.  Once  in  a  while 
it  is  good  for  stagnant  humanity  to 
indulge  in  high  life  and  cracknels — " 

"Bravo!"  shouted  one  of  the  Nay- 
lor  girls,  who  had  pocketed  her  re- 
freshments to  carry  home  as  a  souve- 
nir. 

"Therefore,"  concluded  the  orator, 
"let  us  leave  the  glamour  and  bewild- 
ering gaiety  of  these  festivities  and 
seek  a  more  common-place  seclusion. 
Let  us  thank  Mrs.  Herringford  once 
again — and  go  home." 

"Bravo!"  yelled  Idowno,  jumping 
up,  and  instantly  the  meeting  ad- 
journed. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

RECONCILIATION. 

"Mr.  Jarrod,"  said  Jim  when  he 
went  to  work  next  morning,  "father's 
here." 

"I've  just  been  to  call  upon  him," 
returned  the  lawyer,  looking  steadily 
at  the  young  man;  "but  you  have  n't." 

Jim  flushed. 

"Does  he  know  I'm  here?"  he 
asked,  hesitatingly. 

"I  told  him.  He  did  n't  know  it 
until  then.  Your  mother  and  Nellie 
and  May  are  all  delighted  and  eager 
to  see  you." 

"And  father?" 

"He  did  not  express  himself  as  glad 
or  sorry.  You've  offended  him  deep- 
ly, Jim." 

The  boy  thrust  his  hands  into  his 
pockets  and  looked  thoughtful. 

"I'd  like  to  see  mother,"  he  said, 
musingly.  "She's  as  tender  and  sweet 
172 


Reconciliation  1 73 

as  any  mother  can  be,  Mr.  Jarrod;  but 
the  poor  dear  is  entirely  under  my  fa- 
ther's thumb,  and  even  his  frown  ter- 
rifies her." 

"Hm,"  said  the  lawyer.  "I  thought 
that  kind  of  wives  became  extinct 
years  ago." 

"Mother's  the  old-fashioned  sort, 
sir.  And  the  girls  are  all  right,  in 
their  way — for  sisters.  But  dad  has 
a  dreadful  temper,  and  when  he  gets 
on  his  high  horse  all  I  can  do  is  to  jaw 
back." 

"No  two  in  a  family  should  try  to 
ride  the  high  horse  at  the  same  time," 
observed  Jarrod;  "and  /you  must  re- 
member that  the  head  of  the  house 
controls  the  stables.  He's  sick,  Jim, 
and  his  pain  makes  him  crabbed. 
Why  not  try  to  bear  with  him,  and  be 
friendly?" 

"That's  what  Susie  says.  Perhaps 
I  really  ought  to  go  up  to  the  cottage 
and  call." 


174  tfamawaca  Folks 


There's  no  question  about  it.    Go 


now." 


Jim  hesitated. 

"I  said  I'd  never  darken  his  doors 
again,  you  know,"  he  intimated, 
weakly. 

"These  are  not  his  doors.  It's 
Grant's  cottage." 

"So  it  is.    Well,  I'll  go." 

He  pulled  his  hat  down  over  his 
ears  desperately,  buttoned  his  coat  in 
spite  of  the  heat,  and  with  tense 
muscles  but  trembling  lips  marched 
up  the  hill  to  the  Grant  cottage. 

Before  he  could  knock  the  door  flew 
open  and  he  was  in  his  mother's  arms. 
The  poor  lady  was  sobbing  with  joy, 
and  led  her  errant  son  into  the  room 
where  his  father  sat  propped  with 
cushions  in  an  easy  chair. 

."Here's  Jim!"  she  said,  trembling 
with  uncertainty  and  a  well  founded 
fear  of  the  interview  to  follow. 

Mr.  Everton  looked  at  his  boy  and 
nodded. 


Reconciliation  \  75 

"Sit  down,  Jim,"  he  said.  The  tone 
was  not  harsh,  but  lacked  cordiality. 

Jim  sat  down. 

"How  are  you,  sir?" 

"Pretty  bad.  I  don't  seem  to  find 
any  relief." 

Once  Jim  had  wickedly  suggested 
that  he  take  his  own  rheumatism  cure ; 
but  the  remark  had  led  to  all  their 
trouble,  so  he  twirled  his  hat  and 
answered  perfunctorily : 

"I'm  sorry,  sir." 

Such  mildness  of  demeanor  ought 
to  have  placated  the  father.  But  Ev- 
erton  was  eyeing  his  son  suspiciously. 

"They  tell  me  you're  working.  A 
lawyer's  clerk." 

"I'm  Mr.  Jarrod's  private  secre- 
tary, sir." 

"Huh!  Good  job  for  a  college 
man,  is  n't  it?  Nice  investment  I 
made  when  I  sent  you  to  Cornell." 

Jim  wondered  what  he  would  say 
if  he  knew  he  had  until  recently  been 
a  dry-goods  clerk. 


176  Tamawaca  Folks 

"Have  n't  you  had  about  enough  of 
this  two-penny  folly4?"  demanded  his 
father,  more  harshly. 

"Oh,  I've  discovered  that  I  can  earn 
my  own  living,"  said  the  boy,  flush- 
ing. , 

"That  is  n't  the  point.  I  reared 
you  with  the  expectation  that  you 
would  be  of  some  use  to  me  when  I 
grew  old  and  feeble.  That  time  has 
arrived.  I  need  you  to  help  look 
after  the  business.  Look  here :  do  you 
owe  nothing  to  me?" 

Jim  examined  the  pattern  on  the 
rug. 

"Just  as  much  as  I  owe  myself,  sir. 
Surely  not  more." 

"Then  pay  your  obligation  to  me 
first,  and  you  can  do  as  you  please 
afterward." 

"All  right.     That's  fair." 

His  mother,  who  sat  beside  him  si- 
lently holding  his  hand,  hugged  him 
again,  and  even  Mr.  Everton  seemed 
pleased  by  the  frank  answer. 


Reconciliation  1 77 

"You  jeered  at  the  business  once, 
and  called  it  a — a  fake!"  resumed  the 
elder  man,  somewhat  bitterly;  "but 
it's  nothing  of  the  sort.  Every  one  of 
the  Evgrton  Remedies  is  prepared  ac- 
cording to  the  formula  of  a  skillful 
physician,  and  they've  helped  lots  of 
suffering  people.  Is  not  my  name 
highly  respected?  Answer  me!" 

"I  think  it  is." 

"Very  well.  You  shall  be  my  as- 
sistant and  have  an  interest  in  the 
business.  I'll  allow  you  ten  thousand 
a  year." 

"Good!"  said  Jim,  brightening  sud- 
denly. "Then  I  can  get  married." 

"Oh,  Jim!"  cried  his  mother. 

"To  whom,  sir?"  asked  his  father. 

"Why,  to  Susie.  Perhaps  you  have 
n't  heard  of  her.  She's  a  girl  I  met 
at  Tamawaca." 

"What's  her  other  name?" 

"Smith.  Susie  Smith,"  dwelling 
on  it  lovingly. 

"Smith!    Well,  who  is  she?" 


178  tfamawaca  Folks 


"The  sweetest  girl  in  all  the  world, 


sir.33 


"Bah!  Who  are  her  people4? 
Where  does  she  come  from?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"Nonsense." 

"I  have  n't  asked  about  her  family. 
Why  should  I,  when  she's  all  right 
herself?  She's  stopping  with  Mr. 
Carleton — W.  E.  Carleton,  the  rail- 
way contractor.  He  says  he  knows 
you." 

"Well?" 

"Susie  lives  in  New  York,  I  think, 
or  some  Eastern  city.  Her  mother  is 
dead  but  her  father  is  still  on  deck — • 
I'm  positive  of  that,  for  she  often 
speaks  of  him." 

"What  does  he  do?" 

"Can't  imagine,  I'm  sure." 

"Jim,  you're  a  fool — a  doddering 
imbecile!" 

"All  right." 

"Oh,    Henry — please   don't   quar- 


Reconciliation  1 79 

rel!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Everton,  begin- 
ning to  weep  anew. 

But  the  invalid  was  suffering 
twinges  and  would  not  be  stayed. 

"You'll  have  to  give  up  that  girl 
for  good  and  all,"  he  roared.  "Susie 
Smith!  Some  cheap  stenographer  or 
a  paid  companion  to  Mrs.  Carleton, 
I  suppose.  Some  designing  hussy 
who  thinks  you'll  have  money,  and 
wants  to  get  her  clutches  on  it.  Susie 
Smith!  For  heaven's  sake,  Jim,  why 
can't  you  have  a  little  sense?" 

Jim  got  up,  slowly  and  with  a  white 
face. 

"Father,  I  don't  know  much  about 
Susie  except  that  I  love  her  and  mean 
to  marry  her.  And  I  won't  have  you 
sneer  at  her,  even  if  you  are  ill  and 
bad  tempered.  You  have  no  reason 
to  say  a  word  against  her." 

"Smith!" 

"I  know,"  a  smile  creeping  over  his 
face  to  soften  its  fierceness;  "but  I'll 


180  ^famawaca  Folks 

change  that  name,  pretty  soon.  Susie 
Everton  is  n't  so  bad,  is  it?" 

"Give  her  up,  Jim.  Don't  let  her 
come  between  us." 

"She's  there,  Dad,  and  you, can't 
thrust  her  away." 

"Give  her  up." 

"I  won't!" 

Mrs.  Everton  was  sobbing  softly. 
The  invalid  turned  on  his  cushions 
with  a  sigh.  But  his  jaws  were  closed 
tight  and  his  brow  bent  to  a  frown. 
Jim  had  quite  regained  his  composure. 

"I  hope  you'll  soon  get  better,  sir," 
he  remarked.  "I  shall  be  in  Tama- 
waca  for  some  weeks  yet,  and  if  I  can 
be  of  any  help  in  any  way,  let  me 
know.  Good  bye,  mother." 

As  he  turned  to  go  the  door  burst 
open  and  Nellie  and  May  dashed  in 
and  threw  themselves  upon  their 
brother  with  glad  cries  and  smother- 
ing kisses.  They  were  bright,  pretty 
girls,  and  Jim  loved  them  and  was 
proud  of  them. 


Reconciliation  181 

"Is  it  all  made  up,  Jim?"  asked 
Nell,  anxiously. 

"Not  quite,  little  sister,"  smiling 
at  her. 

"Oh,  but  it  must  be !  It's  all  wrong, 
dear,  for  us  to  be  separated  this  way. 
Tell  him  so,  father!"  turning  appeal- 
ingly  to  the  invalid. 

"He  refused  my  overtures,"  said 
Mr.  Everton,  testily. 

^"Oh,  no!"  laughed  Jim;  "he  re- 
fused my  sweetheart." 

The  girls  clapped  their  hands  glee- 
fully. 

"We've  heard  all  about  it,  in  the 
town,"  said  one.  "Oh,  Jim,  you  lucky 
boy!" 

"And  whom  do  you  think  it  is, 
Dad?"  asked  the  other  eagerly,  as  she 
seated  herself  beside  her  father's 
chair. 

"I  don't  know;  and  Jim  don't 
know." 

"But  we  know !  She's  an  old  friend 
of  ours.  We  knew  her  at  Wellesley, 


182  tfamawaca  Folks 

and  we've  just  called  upon  her  and 
kissed  her  and  hugged  her  for 
old  times'  sake.  Father,  it's  Susie 
Smith!" 

4 'Smith!"  with  a  snort  of  contempt. 

'The  only,  only  child  of  the  great 
Agamemnon  Smith,  the  richest  Stand- 
ard Oil  magnate  after  Rockefeller 
himself!" 

Jim  fell  into  a  chair  and  stared  at 
his  father.  His  father  stared  at  him. 

"And  that  is  n't  all,"  said  May, 
gushingly.  "Susie's  as  lovely  as  she 
is  rich — the  sweetest,  cutest,  brightest 
and  cunningest  little  thing  that  ever 
lived." 

"To  think  that  Susie  Smith  will  be 
our  sister!"  cried  Nell,  clasping  her 
hands  ecstatically. 

"And — and — Jim  can  change  that 
name  of  Smith,  you  know,"  faltered 
poor  Mrs.  Everton,  glancing  at  her 
husband  nervously. 

The  invalid  roused  himself  and 
looked  up  with  a  smile. 


Reconciliation  183 

"So  he  can,"  he  observed,  drily. 
"Hang  up  your  hat,  Jim,  and  let's 
talk  it  over." 

Jim  hung  up  his  hat. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

OF  COURSE. 

Things  settled  into  easy  grooves  at 
Tamawaca. 

Now  that  Wilder  was  no  longer  a 
public  autocrat  people  accepted  him 
in  his  new  role  as  an  humble  member 
of  the  community,  according  him  the 
consideration  due  any  well  behaved 
cottager.  Easton  kept  out  of  the  way 
for  a  time,  and  gradually  folks  forgot 
him  and  regained  their  accustomed 
cheerfulness.  He  had  been  a  thorn  in 
their  sides,  but  the  wound  soon  healed 
when  the  thorn  was  removed.  Few 
of  us  care  to  remember  unpleasant 
things,  and  communities  are  more  gen- 
erous than  we  are  inclined  to  give 
them  the  credit  for  being. 

The   "New  Tamawaca"  began  to 

arouse  the  interest  of  the  cottagers, 

who  threw  themselves  heart  and  soul 

into  its  regeneration.     Things  were 

184 


Of  Course  185 

done  for  the  first  time  in  the  history 
of  the  place,  and  done  with  a  will  and 
enthusiasm  that  accomplished  won- 
ders in  a  brief  period.  Miles  of  ce- 
ment walks  were  laid  through  the 
woods,  and  a  broad  thoroughfare  now 
extends  the  length  of  the  lake  front,, 
where  once  it  was  dangerous  to  travel 
on  foot.  To  the  visitor  it  is  the  chief 
charm  of  the  place.  There  are  new 
public  buildings,  too,  and  the  little 
parks  that  were  formerly  dumps  for 
refuse  are  made  sweet  and  enticing 
with  shrubs  and  flowers. 

Because  of  all  this,  and  the  era  of 
prosperity  that  has  dawned  upon  it, 
Tamawaca  is  growing  steadily  and 
many  pretty  cottages  are  springing  up 
on  the  vacant  lots.  One  of  the  most 
attractive  of  these  is  owned  by  Jim 
and  Susie,  who  have  ample  reason  to 
be  fond  of  the  delightful  resort  where 
they  had  the  good  fortune  to  first 
meet. 


'«** 


WAR  11 1971  6  3 


W520945 


